I'll set the table, you can make the fire
by AnthroQueen
Summary: The dust has settled, the texts have stopped and their wounds are starting to heal.
1. i knew nothing of romance

**Well hello :) I am not new to the PLL fandom, but I am new to the fanfiction fandom, if that makes sense. I've had this idea bouncing around my brain for almost a year now and I've tried so hard to ignore it, because once I start writing for a show it usually never stops (re: Community lol). But alas, my muse could not be quieted. And therefore, this little story was born and I'm kind of pleased with how it turned out.  
**

**So I've always wondered what's going to happen for the gang in the future, but when Spencer moved in with Toby this season and we were denied domestic Spoby, that's when my mind really started to wander. Hence, this story. Now it's basically all mindless fluff and there is very, very little drama. The A bullshit is over and I thought if I named who I really think is A in this story, people would think I'm crazy. So I barely give that a second thought. This story is mainly just going to be a nice futuristic look at what could possibly be. If this isn't your style, you don't have to read. Honestly, I won't be offended. :)**

**The chapter title comes from the song "The Gambler" by Fun. So does the story title, actually. It's a beautiful song; kind of the anthem for this story, if you will. Read, review if you like and I hope you enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome! Okay bye.**

* * *

I knew nothing of romance, but it was love at second sight

She ends up at Columbia, which isn't UPenn, not by a long shot, but it's still an Ivy and her parents get to boast to all the members of the club about how she's the first Hastings to branch out to a new school. They of course don't mention that she didn't have much of a choice; they'd never bring up her rejection. But they are genuinely proud of her, so Spencer doesn't mind. She steers clear of the law department, despite many nudges and hints from her parents that she should pursue such a path, because if she ever turned into the kind of person who put litigations and mediations before her personal life, she would probably jump off of the Empire State Building.

Speaking of which- New York City is nothing like Rosewood, Pennsylvania. It's full of smog and it's busy and it's loud. People are incredibly rude and the subways are laden with germs and coffee costs twelve dollars. But Spencer loves the anonymity; a life of small-town gossip and endless tormenting left her with no other desire but to escape to a place where no one knew her name. When she first stepped off the train at Penn Station, no one gave her a second glance. It was humbling and it was welcoming- the city that never sleeps had far too much on its mind to worry about eighteen-year-old Spencer Hastings. That, of course, was what she loved the most.

It's how her four years at Columbia had gone. She built her schedules, attended her classes and passed with flying colors. She made friends and joined school organizations and acted as every normal undergrad would. The A texts had stopped once CeCe Drake was in custody; the blonde claimed she wasn't the ever-elusive A, but ever since she'd been imprisoned for the murder of Detective Wilden, the five girls had not once received another text. Every now and then, Spencer wonders if they'll start up again. She'll be in the middle of a mundane activity and her phone will buzz and that will immediately set off a torrent of unwanted emotion and panic. But it never turns out to be what she fears and to say she's hoping it never does would be the understatement of the century.

Once upon a time, Spencer had told the others that there was no way any of them would graduate high school. Honestly, with the near-death experiences they'd shared throughout the latter half of their high school days, they wouldn't have been shocked if they didn't make it to the end. But somehow, discovering Alison was, in fact, very much alive only helped their causes for the better. The town ceased its scorn and mockery of the girls and they were allowed to depart high school like their equals. They'd scattered across the country for college- Emily had traveled the farthest, all the way to California, with Aria representing the Syracuse Orange and Hanna spending her non-studying days (so, everyday) on the beaches of Miami. Of course, they still stayed in touch. After everything they'd been through, they were bound together for life.

Upon graduation, they'd moved back to Rosewood despite their better judgment. Their families had stayed put and they couldn't justify the move no matter how much of a disappointment they found Rosewood to be. Hanna had opened a boutique in the center of the town and it was booming with business. Emily had taken over the Rosewood Sharks swim team after her former coach retired. And Aria and Spencer pursued higher education and went on for their masters' degrees; Aria at Penn State for education and Spencer at Yale for psychology. New Haven, of course, was no New York City. It was grungier, more compact and definitely less appealing to look at. But honestly, she couldn't have been happier.

Wrong. She definitely could be happier. But thankfully, she will be if she can just make it to six o'clock. It's early November and she's in her final year of her master's program. Of course, the next natural step if she wants to actually practice what she preaches- which she does- is to get her doctorate, something her parents can't stop bragging over. Self-righteously, Spencer thinks that _Melissa's_ never gotten a doctorate and for some reason this thought makes her insanely happy and makes her hate herself at the same time. Needless to say, she's stressing over the decision and the applications into the programs. She's also stressing over midterms and her fieldwork. She's basically a bundle of stress, but what else is new?

Right now, the menacing grey clouds are emptying pummeling, golf-ball-sized drops of fury against the thin panes of glass that serve as windows in Spencer's apartment. She's curled up on the couch, a textbook open in her lap and a highlighter between the cages of her teeth as she shuffles through a notebook on the coffee table. The front door opens and Spencer barely looks up as her roommate, Amanda, bounds into the apartment, tracking mud and dripping profusely, beginning to strip off her many layers. A passage of particular importance catches Spencer's attention, instead, and she blocks it in pink, gliding the highlighter along smoothly as Amanda chuckles at the sight of her.

"Only you would be studying on a Friday night," She smirks. "Girl, you need a drink."

Spencer counters, "It's barely four o'clock. Besides, I have to get this done. I have a proposal to turn in by midnight and I've hardly started."

"Midnight is hours from now," Amanda comments, pulling her laptop out of her bag and replacing it with clothes and toiletries. "Take a breather, Einstein."

Spencer nods towards her bag and asks, "Where are you going?"

"Are you kidding? Your boyfriend's coming to town," Amanda states as though it's obvious. "You didn't think I was going to stick around to be third wheel, did you?"

"Well I guess not," Spencer shrugs. "But I don't want to kick you out."

"No worries," Amanda assures her. "I'm spending the weekend at Theta Chi. I'm going to teach those boys how to live, if you know what I mean."

Laughing, Spencer nods. "I always know what you mean."

"What can I say," Amanda winks. "Undergrads… They really get me going."

She's out the door a moment later and though Spencer truly does love her roommate, she has to admit she's glad to see her go. She hasn't seen Toby in ages, since the summer, and their reunion will likely be eventful. Her schedule has been insane and so has his and somehow, they hadn't managed to clear their duties and obligations until now. But it's their anniversary- six years, this year- and there was no _way_ they were going to let that pass without a visit. He'd gotten clearance from his boss and she'd been struggling to finish all her assignments and tasks on time in order to devote her all her attention to him.

When they has first been presented with idea of separation, following her graduation of high school in anticipation of her move to New York, Toby had insisted that she keep her romantic options open. He told her he understood if she wanted to branch out, meet new people and explore her potential prospects; he knew that long-distance relationships were tough and that high school sweethearts rarely ever stayed together. Spencer had listened to his every word and had, in the end, told him it was the biggest load of bullshit he'd ever said. She didn't _want_ to explore her options, she didn't want to date around; she already had exactly what she wanted with exactly _who_ she wanted. "So if it's alright with you," She had said in that way that told him she wasn't really asking. "I would like to make this work."

Six years later, they're still going strong.

The rain has let up slightly by the time Spencer heads out to the train station, but her windshield wipers still have to work in overdrive to keep up with the onslaught. Somehow, she'd convinced Toby to take the train and to spare that beaten old pickup truck the long journey up to Connecticut and since today had been such a disaster weather-wise, she's glad she did. The station is conveniently located near campus, so it doesn't take her too long to arrive, fight the downpour and head inside. His train's been delayed and she can't say she's shocked; it's just another obstacle in their path. She circles the gift shop three times and paces the floor in front of the arrivals and departures board endlessly until finally, the moment comes. She spots him on the waterfall of the escalator and her entire body hums with anticipation. A smile so bright it puts the sun to shame grows on his face the moment he catches sight of her and in an instant, they're mere inches from one another.

He presents her with a bouquet of mostly wilted flowers, a sheepish grin on his face. "I bought these for you back at home, but I don't think they survived the seven-hour journey."

Spencer accepts them anyway, laughing a bit, and throws her arms around him. He holds onto her just as fiercely, as if she's air and he's drowning, and she can feel him sigh, like he wasn't truly at peace until now, until he was with her. Spencer closes her eyes, pulls him closer and breathes in his scent. If she suffocated right here and now in his arms, she would honestly be okay with it. Exhaling, she says, "I missed you so much."

"You have no idea," Toby agrees, pulling back only slightly to lower his lips onto hers. His hands thread through her hair and her heartbeat quickens and if he weren't holding onto her so tightly, Spencer's sure she'd melt away on the spot.

Reluctantly, she pulls away to tell him, "We should go. I'm kind of parked illegally."

He kisses her once more and slips an arm around her waist. "I'm sure if they ever caught you, you could argue your way out of it."

"That might be true, but I have better things to do with my weekend," She tells him, her grin mischievous.

"I don't know, it was a really long train," He teases, bumping her hip with his. "I'm pretty exhausted."

"Are you sure?" Spencer asks. "My roommate's away. She's probably knee-deep in body shots and frat boys by now so we have the entire place to ourselves…"

She trails off suggestively and Toby grins back at her. "Oh, then I may have to reconsider."

The rain has mostly stopped; it's nothing but a soft drizzle, now. The newly reunited pair clambers into Spencer's car and she turns the key in the ignition. As the car rumbles to life, the windshield wipers jumping back to their jobs and a warm breeze filtering through the coolant system, she chances a glance at Toby and smiles when he makes eye contact. "What?"

"Nothing," She insists. "I'm just really glad you're here. I know the train ride was really long, but-"

"Spencer," Toby says her name delicately, as if it were porcelain tumbling from his mouth. "There is nowhere I'd rather be. And nothing was going to keep me from you on our anniversary."

Once upon a time, Spencer had wondered what it was about Toby that made her see the world so differently. There was something so different about him, so real and uninhibited, and she couldn't ever quite place a finger on it. Over time, she began to realize it was certain things about him that acted in coordination with others. The way he laughed or that playful tone of his voice or the look in his beautiful blue eyes that he'd get every time he looked at her. The deep concern he had for her wellbeing and his strong understanding of what she needed not only physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. He knew her better than she knew herself; it might have been a cliché, but it was the most amazing cliché she'd ever realized. There was _something_ about Toby, something Spencer had spent years trying to figure out, only for it to smack her in the face.

It isn't just _something_. It's _everything_.

* * *

The next morning, the 6th and their actual anniversary, they wake up with great plans to spend the entire day together making the most out of New Haven. But the skies once again have other plans for the two; it decides to rain quite literally on their parade and much more ferociously than the evening prior. Thunder rumbles down from the heavens and lightning flashes across the great dark expanse of sky. Spencer is so scandalized by the weather she stands by the far window in the living room, mouth agape, and exclaiming frustrated expletives about how nothing ever goes her way. Toby finds it amusing. Honestly, he couldn't have cared less about exploring quirky-but-moderately-dangerous New Haven. He's content just to be with her.

So, they spend the day at home. They laze around in bed until well after noon and bake muffins but decide to pass the baking time by making out and end up burning half the batch. They take a shower and Toby brings up, as he always does, the infinitely awkward time when her father had caught him in just his towel beckoning her to join him in what seemed like a lifetime ago. Casually flipping through the channels on the television while using one another for a pillow on the couch lasts them an hour or two before the power cuts out. Toby goes out of his way to find and light a candle, but Spencer's over-prepared with her industrial strength flashlight that could likely cut through the densest of fogs. He rolls his eyes but he's honestly not shocked.

They do celebrate their anniversary with a very nice dinner downtown, however, which serves as a great way to break up the day. The thunderstorm has neither ceased nor calmed down in the slightest, but they decide they aren't going to let it dampen their spirits. Six years is a long time to have been in a relationship and Toby wants nothing more than to toast his beautiful girlfriend to at least six years more. After everything they've been through together, all the lies and the danger and the tormenting, they somehow managed to come out stronger, as if these horrific experiences only strengthened them. Their relationship had taken a beating or two here and there, but nothing ever tore them down. Impenetrable to outside forces, their relationship is the thing Toby covets the most in his life. Save for, of course, Spencer herself.

When they return from dinner, she seems a bit more solemn than she had been previously and when he shoots her a questioning look, she frowns and says, "I can't believe you're leaving me already."

"Not until tomorrow," He assures her. "That's hours from now."

"Do you have to?" She asks even though she knows the answer. He does have a life to return to and so does she. But hopefully, they would be joined again soon enough.

"I do. I have to be on-site in Williamsport on Monday," Toby says. "But I'm sure you'll have plenty to keep you busy until I see you again."

"Yeah," Spencer agrees. "I have to teach that seminar to the stuffy undergrads and I have to turn in my thesis by the end of the semester that I've barely dipped my toes in and of course my fieldwork is piling up…"

"You'll be great," Toby tells her, gripping her shoulders for support. "You always are."

She smiles slowly, still wary after all this time to take in a compliment. He changes the subject, "Hey, do you want to play Scrabble?"

Toby watches as the frown adorning her features melts into the Hastings game face. "Of course I do. You're on. Just let me get out of this dress."

He nods, watching her go a moment, and realizes his hands are shaking. He can't help himself; he's been fine all day, hell he's been fine all _week_, but now… It's so close; _they're_ so close and he can't afford to slip up now. Trailing after her to her bedroom, he removes his jacket, slips out of the button-down and tosses both of them aside. Spencer's already commandeered a t-shirt of his and a pair of his boxers and he can imagine he won't be getting those back any time soon. As he slips into clothes that match her level of comfort, she pulls the battered Scrabble box out from under her bed and sets up the board. She's lying on her stomach across the far end of the unmade bed, her hair curled loosely and falling over her shoulders, her warm brown eyes framed by a delicate shading of makeup and Toby has to pause for a moment because _damn_ she's the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

She glances up, then, and catches him staring. "Are you ready to play?"

"Yeah," He snaps out of it and joins her. "Yeah, let's go."

When he garners nineteen points for "JAR," he can tell he's already set her on edge. She continues making longer words for smaller scores and does well in expanding into the four corners of the board, but she's trailing him by a handful of points. Somehow, his usage of words like "RYE" and "PIKE" manage to get him the leading spot. He can't help it; the double letter and triple word scores just happen to be conveniently where he needs them. It's her turn now; she's biting her lip, intently focused on her row of letters, and he can see the wheels turning in her brain. It's something about her that's always fascinated him. If he watched her closely enough, he could see the exact moment she came to a conclusion. He could watch the different circumstances play out in her mind like an open canvas and ultimately, he could see the answer come to the surface.

Eventually, she places down "PURVEYOR" and gets 74 points. "If only I could've used my last tile. Honestly what am I supposed to do with this random B?"

"I don't know, but thank you for using a U," Toby grins, spelling out "QUOXWOOD." "Not my best, but that's twenty eight points. Plus the D's on a triple word score, so that's actually 84 points."

"That is not a real word," Spencer frowns. "Give me the dictionary."

He obliges, but insists. "Spence, it's a type of tree."

"Sure it is," She mutters, flipping through the large book as he smirks before her.

Toby takes the opportunity to snatch the drawstring bag of letters and grab a handful of new ones for his sleeve. His hands are still shaking, but he's counting on her not to notice. He shakes the bag a little, as though mixing up the odds, and hands the bag back to her just as she shakes her head and exclaims, "Unbelievable. I don't deserve the species classification badge I earned in Girl Scouts in the fifth grade. If I overlooked quoxwood, what else didn't I notice?"

"Spence, you're overreacting," Toby chuckles. "You want to get some new letters? You look like you're missing a few."

"Seriously!" Spencer insists, sitting up. "We were out there in the woods for two days, two _full days_, and I never even knew that a quoxwood tree existed. What if it was in the guidebook that the troop leader gave us and I just overlooked it?"

"It's really not that big of a deal," Toby tells her. "Just please take some new letters so we can move on."

"It couldn't have been in the guidebook, though, because I read that thing cover to cover," Spencer goes on. "What if the troop leaders don't know about quoxwood? They're giving badges to girls who never finished their classification! Someone should tell them-"

"Spencer," He says her name firmly and she stops instantly. "Let it go. Take new letters. Let's finish this game."

"Oh my god, would you relax about the letters for a second?" Spencer shoots back, taking the drawstring bag and shaking a few of the letters into her palm. "We'll finish the game, I was just saying-"

He watches with baited breath as she pauses when something heavier falls into her palm. There, amidst the vowel and consonant tiles, is an engagement ring. If Toby thought he was nervous before, it's nothing compared to his feelings now. His eyes never leave her face as she inhales sharply and says, shakily, "Oh my god."

"Spencer," He begins and that's all it takes, just her name. Her eyes lift from the ring in her hand to the love and adoration radiating from his own expression and for a moment, his heart catches right in his throat. Her eyes are filling with tears and he can count on one hand the number of times he's seen her cry. None of them have been out of positive circumstances. But he hopes this time it is and he thinks it may be and he knows that even now, even with her tear-filled eyes and her shocked expression and the confusion and happiness and love pouring out of every inch of her, she is still the most beautiful woman in the world.

"Spencer," He starts again when he can get his bearings. She's still giving him more than he could have ever imagined. "You are the love of my life and I can't imagine my life without you. When we first met, that afternoon when you came to tutor me in French, I never expected that we would grow like we did. I never expected you to become such an integral part of my life and I'm thankful everyday for the time we spent together. You became everything to me in such a short time span. You've always been there for me when I needed you the most and you've always stuck by me even when… Even when things got bad. I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that I deserve it."

"You are the strongest, smartest, kindest and most loyal person I have ever known... And not only are you the love of my life, but you're my best friend. I have wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you for as long as I can remember, so…" Toby says, gently taking the ring from the palm of her hand and officially presenting her with it. "Spencer Hastings, will you marry me?"

"Yes," She doesn't hesitate, not even for a second. "Of course I will. Yes!"

He slips the ring onto her finger and barely completes the action before she attaches herself to him, kissing him as strongly as she can with tears rolling down her cheeks. Toby feels all of the anxiety, all the nervous energy from before, completely ebb away and instead get replaced by an all-consuming love for the woman he's embracing. Her hands tenderly caress his cheeks and his encircle her waist as she all but climbs on top of him. He doesn't mind. Toby can't remember his life before Spencer; it's a dull void in which he'd suffered unnecessarily for years. But like a beacon of light, she'd come into his life at exactly the right moment to guide him towards the life he deserved. He can't remember his life before her and he'll never have to live without her again.

"I love you," She cries and kisses him again. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," He tells her earnestly and swipes the pads of his thumbs across her cheeks to ward off the tears. "And see? You were all worried about me leaving you. Face it, Spence- you're stuck with me for life, now."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," She grins and then leans back a bit from his grasp, groaning, "Oh god, my parents are going to cause a scene. At least Melissa was established in her career when she got married. Me, I don't even have my master's yet!"

"But you're almost there," Toby points out. "Plus, your parents already know."

Spencer shoots him a look. "What? What do you mean they already know?"

"Okay, I know the post-modern feminist side of you isn't going to like this," Toby sighs. "But I called them weeks ago and asked if it was okay. It's not that I thought I needed permission or that I'm buying you like a piece of property, but I just wanted to make sure that… they knew I was serious about you. About _us_."

"And what did they say?"

"Your dad was surprisingly calm and okay with it," Toby answers. "Your mom asked why I hadn't done it sooner, which I think was her attempt at a joke, but it sort of fell flat."

Spencer grins. "Oh my god, we're getting married."

"We're getting married," Toby confirms.

"We're like real adults now."

He laughs. "We were bound to get there eventually."

She laughs, too, and leans in for another kiss, this one far more passionate than the last. Toby responds with earnest and the two lower themselves more properly onto the bed… and the Scrabble board with their unfinished game. Tiles go skittering across the board and Spencer's wooden stand falls to the floor. She laughs and Toby shrugs. "We'll pick it up later. I won, anyway."

"No," Spencer grins. "I'm pretty sure it was a tie."

They continue to kiss, but something's eating away at Toby's conscience, so he comes forward. "Wait, Spence?"

"Mm?"

"You won," He concedes. "Quoxwood's not a real thing."

"I knew it!" She shouts, indignant. "I didn't find it in the dictionary and I thought maybe it was an older version, so… Toby, you made me question my childhood observational qualities!"

"Oh how dare I," Toby jokes. "Are you happy now? You finally beat me."

"Well, we never technically finished the game."

"Would you like to?"

"Later," Spencer disregards. "I've got more important things to do right now."


	2. all the kids have bloomed from babies

**Hi I'm back! Thank you all so incredibly much for your wonderful feedback! I wasn't sure how people would like it; I've been working on this story for a week and figured it was about time I got others' input. But your kind words were greatly, greatly appreciated! Thank you so much! Also thanks for the follows, the favorites, all that. Even if you couldn't review, I know you're there reading! ;) On to chapter two!**

**Now I find weddings to be extremely boring to write, so I just gave it some exposition. Apologies if that's what you were expecting, but don't worry, I've got plenty more up my sleeve! The chapter title is once again from the song "The Gambler" by Fun. It's a great song; have you listened yet? :P Thank you for reading/reviewing/following/favoriting and I hope you enjoy this chapter too! If you don't, no hard feelings, I promise. :D  
**

* * *

all the kids have bloomed from babies into flowers in our eyes

They get married in early April and much like the night they got engaged, it rains. There's a constant drizzle being emitted from the thick clouds above them and it moves their outdoor ceremony indoors. Spencer nearly has to be carried from the limo in order to keep her flowing white gown from the dangerous waters of the puddles on the ground. The florist brings tulips instead of the calla lilies they wanted and the caterer is forty-five minutes late to the reception. But Spencer doesn't let any of this get to her; there will be time enough for anger later. Because when her father takes her arm, leads her down the hall and towards the start of the red-carpeted aisle, she's feeling a million things at once and there isn't room for anger. And when the music crescendos and the crowd stands and her heart is pounding so loud she feels the vibrations to her very core, the only thing Spencer focuses on is Toby, who's waiting for her at the end of the aisle with the same elated grin on his face as is mirrored on hers. She feels nothing more than pure, unadulterated bliss.

A month later, she receives her master's degree in behavioral psychology and announces to her friends and family that she will be returning to Columbia to complete her doctoral degree. Everyone wonders what this means for Toby and for their relationship, but neither one sees this as much of an issue. They're married now; he's of course moving to New York with her. The program will take about two years, three years maximum, and honestly, they are both looking forward to the escape from Rosewood. Once the logistics are out of the way, everyone feels as though they can adequately celebrate. Even Melissa offers her tight-lipped congratulations, somehow managing to keep her jealousy at bay. Her parents cannot stop gushing over how proud they are of her and if Spencer ever wondered whether or not their parental feelings were genuine, she now wonders no more. The celebration lasts long into the night, long after everyone has gone home, and later, Spencer wonders if maybe they partied just a little too hard.

By the end of May, they've begun to pack up the things in the loft in preparation for their move to New York. Toby stretches a strip of packing tape over one of the boxes and says, "I know it's strange, but I'm actually going to miss this place. It was my first real home, you know?"

"Yeah," Spencer replies, distracted. "Yeah, it's definitely going to be a change."

"What time are you meeting the girls today?" He asks, wrapping a handful of plates in newspaper.

"Um… soon," She says. "Actually, I should probably head out if I don't want to be late. Would you kill me if I left now?"

"And left me to pack the rest of the kitchen?" He questions. "No, go for it. I just hope you don't expect the boxes to be organized by your standards. I'm sure you'll have to repack everything when you get back."

Spencer smiles and shakes her head a bit, snatching her purse off of the coffee table. He gives her a quick kiss goodbye and then she's out the door. Alison's been all over the country since the moment they graduated high school and honestly, know one really knows her whereabouts. But the others are glad to meet for lunch at the Grille, just like old times. Hanna talks endlessly about the boutique and her adventures with Caleb, whom she'd married straight out of undergrad in the most dramatic wedding Spencer's ever attended. Emily has stories about the victories her swim team has brought her and brings up her back-on-again relationship with Paige, and none of the girls are very surprised. Aria, of course, has pursued her dream of teaching by acquiring a master's in English education and talks of this and this only, because she knows the other girls are wary of her relationship with Ezra. Despite it being legal now, the others never truly did forgive him for his earlier transgressions.

"I applied to schools all over the area," Aria says. "We'll see where I end up. Who knows if I'll even stay in Rosewood?"

"Wait, you applied to Rosewood High, right?" Emily wonders. "I can get you in no problem. I've kind of got some influence over there."

"Yeah I did and I would love to work with you, Em," Aria tells her. "But I don't think I really want to end up back where everything started."

"Why not? If you really wanted to get away from it all, you should have left Rosewood," Hanna counters, nodding towards Spencer. "Like Spence. She's moving to New York and completely leaving us."

"It's not permanent," Spencer assures her. "I just need my PhD."

"You say that like it's the most casual thing in the world," Hanna smirks. "'I just need my PhD and maybe while I'm there I'll discover the cure for AIDS and orbit the sun!'"

"She's not studying medicine," Aria laughs. "Or rocket science, for that matter."

The others chuckle along with her but when Spencer merely smiles in response, Emily asks, "What's wrong? You're not excited about your big move?"

"It's not that," Spencer shakes her head. "It's just gotten much more complicated than I expected."

"Why?" Aria wonders. "You didn't have any trouble finding an apartment, did you?"

"No, no we didn't."

"Does Toby not want to move to New York?" Emily probes. "You'd think he'd be dying to get out of this town."

"It's not Toby," Spencer insists. "He's more excited than I am."

"Then what?" Hanna teases. "Are you pregnant?"

The other two shoot her a look but Spencer bites her lip. "A little bit."

"Wait, what?" Aria exclaims and a triumphant look comes over Hanna's face.

"I knew it," She grins. "I know you, Spencer. Every time I say what I'm thinking, it's always 'Shut up, Hanna! Shut up, Hanna!' Well guess what, Emily, Aria? Today you were wrong and I was right. How does that feel?"

Emily rolls her eyes. "Shut up, Hanna."

"Okay, I just found out yesterday and I'm freaking out because this is going to change _everything_," Spencer unravels. "Toby and I haven't even talked about having kids, not even once. I mean for all I know he doesn't even want them! And how am I supposed to take on a full course load or complete my dissertation or study for exams with a baby? A _baby!_"

"Okay, you need to take a breath," Aria tells her. "It's not the end of the world. I doubt you're the first pregnant woman to get a PhD."

"Also I doubt Toby's just going to up and leave you when you tell him," Emily offers. "He's not that kind of person. He loves you."

"You should name the baby after me," Hanna suggests and when the other two stare pointedly at her, she backtracks. "What? I was just trying to lighten the mood."

Spencer laughs. "Thanks, Han."

When she returns home, nerves still unsettled in her stomach, she finds Toby still in the kitchen, running his hand under the sink. It isn't until after he wraps a paper towel around his palm and it becomes saturated with his blood that she realizes he's injured himself. "Oh my god, what did you do?"

"Spence? When did you get home?" He asks instead of giving her an answer. "I didn't even hear you come in."

She peels the paper towel away and inspects the wound. "Oh, it's not that deep. Let me get the peroxide."

When she returns, Toby explains, "The box opener slipped and decided to open my skin instead."

Spencer smirks and watches the peroxide fizz and bubble over the cut. When it dies down, she places a bandage over his hand in replacement. "You're having a rough week."

"Yeah," He agrees, heading to the living room to collapse on the couch. "I'm beginning to think this move just might kill me."

She follows suit and sits gently beside him. "Can I ask you something? And you have to promise not to freak out."

"Oh god," He groans. "Whenever you preface something with that-"

"No, it's not bad," She assures him. "Just… Please promise me."

Toby takes one of her hands and gives it a gentle squeeze. "I do. I promise."

"Do you want kids?"

He chuckles a bit and asks, "That's what you thought I'd freak out about? It's not that crazy of a question."

She bites her lip. "I guess not."

"I mean, I guess so, yeah. Someday," Toby answers. "Kids are great, so eventually, I guess I'd want kids. I mean, in the future…"

Her eyes begin to well with tears and Toby immediately panics. "I'm sorry. Is that not the answer you wanted?"

"No, your answer's fine, it's just… What if 'someday' is sooner than 'someday'?" She asks. "Like… what if it's only in a handful of months?"

Realization dawns on him and even though he knows, he still implores, "Spence, are you pregnant?"

She nods slowly. "Kind of."

"Oh," He says and after a beat, "Well I can honestly say I didn't think that was going to happen so fast."

"Me either," She sighs, wiping at her eyes. "Everything just got infinitely harder. I mean there's no way we can do this. Not with everything else on our plates-"

"Hey, hey, yes we can," Toby disagrees. "We're not teenagers; we didn't get knocked up at band camp. We're adults, we're married... Of course we can do this. It's you and me, Spence; we can do anything."

"We can?" Spencer asks, still a bit hesitant.

"Yeah," Toby nods. "It'll be great. Think about it! We'll have a little miniature version of ourselves running around. We're going to be parents, Spence. It's going to be amazing."

"So you're not mad?" She probes.

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" Toby asks, bewildered. "I'm surprised. I'm a little concerned at how quickly it happened and how difficult it's going to be, but I'm excited. Aren't you excited?"

"Yeah," She smiles. "Yeah I am."

* * *

Just as that familiar smell of pizza grease, subway fumes and Nuts 4 Nuts greets Toby and Spencer when they arrive in New York, the roll of Spencer's stomach tells her baby Cavanaugh is not a fan. They barely make it down two blocks before she bends over a trashcan and empties the contents of her stomach into it. She needs to get away from the street vendors and the smell of car exhaust in the air and if someone doesn't cover that sewer grate, Spencer's sure she'll be puking for days. Toby stares at her the entire cab ride to 116th and Broadway, as though she's going to combust or toss her cookies once more. She doesn't, but that doesn't make him worry any less.

Most of the boxes they'd had shipped a week or so prior had already arrived. When they get the keys to their place and marvel sarcastically over their great view of the alleyway, they begin to unpack. Thankfully, the apartment was mostly furnished, so all they needed to bring was a slew of accents to make it feel like home. Spencer unpacks a box full of plates and silverware before curling up on the couch and promptly passing out. She's been complaining of feeling like she's "in a state of being perpetually hung-over" for weeks now and surely the intense July heat cannot be helping. Toby doesn't mind; her energy might be spent, but he's got enough for the both of them and finishes unpacking their things.

Afterwards, he begins to gather his wallet to make a trip for groceries. When he returns to the living area to tell Spencer, she's nowhere to be found. Their place is tiny and it doesn't take long for him to locate her in the bathroom. She's staring at her reflection in the mirror and doesn't acknowledge his presence, but instead says, "I don't look pregnant yet, but I do look as though I've had a breast augmentation."

Toby laughs and steps closer. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

She backs away. "Don't get any ideas. They hurt like a bitch, so keep your hands to yourself."

"That's fair," He holds his hands up in mock defense. "I'm going to head out for groceries. You want to come?"

"Yeah," She nods. "Let's go."

They stock up on all the staples, a selection of snacks and an array of fruits and vegetables, so Spencer can get all the vitamins and minerals she needs. Then she decides, halfway down the ethnic foods aisle (which she comments on, of course, it being surprisingly racist for the melting pot that is NYC), that she wants tacos for dinner and Toby, being the devoted husband he is, offers to make them. She can't stand to be around cooking meat lately; it's her latest aversion. When they arrive home, he browns up the ground beef, dices the tomatoes and tears lettuce from the head, as she sets out the plates and their drinks far, far away from him. He brings the shells, the cheese and the ground beef over when he's done, presenting them as though he were an actual chef.

"Alright, here we go," Toby grins. "Did someone order some tacos?"

But when he looks at Spencer, she's gone pale as a sheet. The smell of the ground beef, the texture, just the _look_, has caused this and she bounds up from the couch and down the hall. The sound of her retching snaps Toby out of his confusion. He places the food on the table and goes to join her. "I don't understand. It's cooked!"

"I can't… The smell," Spencer rasps from her place worshipping the porcelain throne. "You have to get them out of here."

"What do you want me to do with them, Spencer?" He asks, baffled. "Sell them on the side of the street?"

"I don't know, Toby, but get them out of here!" She says, hysterical. "Get them out! Get them out! Please get rid of them!"

"Okay, okay," He assures her. "I'll get rid of them. But what are you going to eat?"

"I'm not eating ever again."

Toby frowns and leaves her to her vomiting, tossing all the food he'd just prepared into a trash bag. Pregnancy is _so_ much fun. Only six more months to go…

* * *

In September, Toby finds work rebuilding a community in the Bronx lost to a devastating fire. The work is difficult and keeps him away for long hours, but the pay is exceptional, so it's a sacrifice he's willing to make. Classes begin at Columbia University and Spencer is already in way over her head. Not only does she have her regularly scheduled classes, but she must also attend weekly seminars and sit in on psychological consultations, not to mention the part-time job she picked up at a practice uptown. But stress isn't good for her pregnancy, as her doctor helpfully reminds her every time she visits, so she's doing everything she can to stay organized and on top of every task she's assigned to.

She's a little over halfway through her pregnancy, now, and thankfully, things had calmed down. She still can't be around meat and honestly, she can't remember the last time she had any. But she's stopped vomiting daily and her body doesn't hurt anymore (well except her back, of course) and she's slightly less exhausted than she was in the first trimester. Spencer can tell that Toby is enjoying this part more too and she's sure it's mostly because of her heightened libido. The mood swings are really the part that Spencer could do without, though. She grew irrationally angry when she couldn't find a textbook (it was, comically, right in front of her) and she'd cried endlessly over an old _Friends_ rerun because, naturally, the haircut Phoebe gave Monica really was tragic. No one wants to look like Dudley Moore.

Today, a rare day when both Toby and Spencer are home, they're headed to the OB/GYN for that infamous 20-week ultrasound. The visit prior, the nurse had told them that this was the week most couples learned the sex of their baby. Toby had found this tidbit interesting, then, and now, as they're waiting to see the doctor, would still like to know if they're having a boy or a girl. Spencer, however, does not. They're led back to a private room and the nurse measures Spencer's vitals before telling them the doctor will be with them shortly. Spencer's already on edge and Toby's prodding is certainly _not_ helping.

"It would be nice to know," Toby says. "Because we can finally decide on a name."

"It's not that hard to make two separate lists," She counteracts. "Besides, you and I don't agree on anything anyway."

"I wouldn't go that far," Toby replies. "If we know the sex, we can start buying clothing and bedding and figure out what we want to do with the nursery."

"There's no nursery; it's a one-bedroom apartment," She bites back. "And we can always get unisex clothes and bedding. If you think I'm dressing my daughter in all pink or my son in all blue, you don't know me at all."

"Spencer, what is the big deal with finding out?" He asks exasperatedly. "Why don't you want to know?"

"Because!" She shouts and it shocks him to silence. "Because nothing can be a surprise anymore! We live in a world where information is at the palm of our hands with just a click of a button or a simple Google search! What is so wrong with waiting, huh? Why does everyone have to know _everything?_ The element of surprise is what people used to revel in, it's something people coveted, and now-"

A knock on the door silences her rant and the doctor enters. "Am I interrupting?"

"Yes, please," Toby says and Spencer glares at him.

The doctor explains what they should expect out of the next few months and talks with them about how the pregnancy has gone so far, asking if they had any questions. When they negate this, she brings the ultrasound machine to life and squirts a bit of the jelly onto Spencer's growing dome of a belly. "Are we interested in finding out the sex?"

"He is, I'm not," Spencer answers, still seething, and the doctor chuckles.

"I actually see this a lot in couples," She tells the two. "If you want, Toby, I can tell you and leave Spencer in the dark."

"Wait, you'd do that?" Toby asks in surprise and the doctor nods.

"Of course, if that's something you want. It's more common than you may think."

Toby takes one look at Spencer's brooding expression and shakes his head. "No, that's okay. If she doesn't know, I don't want to know."

"Okay," The doctor smiles. "If your baby's in a cooperating position this week, I _will_ know, so feel free to ask at any time if you change your mind."

She begins to glide the transducer along Spencer's stomach until the baby comes into view. "Ah, there we go. You've got a healthy little bugger. See that, right there? That is one _strong_ heartbeat."

She adjusts the screen a bit and laughs. "Oh and look right up there- you've got a thumb-sucker."

Toby laughs too, pressing a kiss to Spencer's forehead and saying, "Look at our baby, Spence!"

And of course, this makes her promptly burst into tears. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into an embrace, crying, "I'm sorry! I was so mean to you before! I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay," He tells her, kissing her hair. "You're fine. I didn't take it personally."

"I don't know what's wrong with me," She goes on and he pulls back a bit to look her in the eye, shaking his head.

"Nothing is wrong with you," Toby tells her sincerely. "The baby's just making you a little bit more emotional lately."

She nods, sniffling a bit. "I love you."

"I love you, too," He tucks her back into an embrace, making weary eye contact with the doctor, who softly chuckles.

"Ah, pregnancy," She comments. "Simultaneously bringing out the worst and the best in all of us."

* * *

Snow comes to New York in mid-December and, coincidentally, so do Veronica and Melissa Hastings. They decide to throw Spencer an impromptu baby shower (because of course neither of them could make the _actual_ baby shower she'd had last week) and bring expensive tea, cake and things for the baby she and Toby would probably never need (a baby wipes warmer? _really?!_). But in all honesty, she had missed her mother and sister dearly, something she never thought she would be able to truthfully say. Their presence is greatly appreciated, especially since classes have ceased for winter break and Toby is off on a supply run and won't be back for a handful of hours.

From the moment her mother and sister arrive, Spencer's afraid they're going to judge everything. The furniture is second-hand and worn, the view of the alley is less than charming and she hasn't gotten around to the housework since she stopped being able to see her toes. But instead of critiquing and being nitpicky, they decide to comment on the positives. They love New York at Christmastime, the apartment smells fantastic and they really picked a great area to live in. They've even brought gossip for her- Hanna's pregnant, due in March, and Spencer nods along and pretends she didn't already know. Emily and Paige are off again and while her family speculates why, Spencer secretly knows it's because Alison has come back to town. And then, of course, Melissa turns the conversation towards herself.

"We really wanted to come visit you now because Wren and I are spending Christmas with his family in Surrey," She informs Spencer. "His parents have only met Vivian once, you know, right after she was born. She's almost two; it's getting ridiculous."

"An eight-hour flight with a toddler?" Spencer smirks. "Good luck. Where is Vivian, anyway?"

"Spending the day with daddy of course," Melissa grins. "They both wanted to see you, but I insisted we have a girls-only afternoon."

Spencer wants to point out that her niece is technically a girl, but her mother interrupts by asking, "How's your dissertation going?"

"Good, I guess," Spencer shrugs. "It's just going to be interesting when the new semester starts because I'm due not too long after that and I get, like, a two-week break."

"Have you lined up childcare?" Veronica asks. "Someone will need to watch the baby while you're in class and at work. It's not like you can drag a car seat with you."

"Not yet," Spencer hesitates.

Melissa lights up, saying, "Oh I'll have Teresa call you! She's our nanny. I'm sure she'll know someone great. We _adore_ her and she's so great with Viv."

"I really wasn't planning on getting a nanny," Spencer frowns. "I don't want some stranger raising my child."

Melissa reacts as if she's been slapped. "They don't _raise_ your child, they _watch_ them while you get work done. It's the same thing a babysitter would do, only they get paid more to do more. Spencer, what did you think you were going to do? Wing it?"

"You really should think about it," Veronica sighs. "You're not going to be able to get any work done with all the distractions a baby brings about. Trust me, I've been there."

Melissa nods. "Me too."

Their words resonate within Spencer for the rest of the day and long after they've left. When Toby arrives home much later, she knows she must approach the subject with him. He shakes the snow off of his coat and hangs it by the door, greeting her with a kiss. His hands then splay across her stomach, asking, "And how are we today, baby Cavanaugh? You kick the crap out of your mother again?"

"Of course, what else is new?" Spencer replies, positioning his hands just so. "He/she is kicking right now."

"Ooh, that's rough," Toby comments, the vibrations strong even though there are at least three layers separating him from the baby. "Has it been like that all day?"

"For the most part, yeah. I'm looking forward to the coming weeks where he/she runs out of room and can't kick me so much," Spencer says as the two come to sit upon the couch. "So my mom and my sister came to visit today."

"They did?" He reacts in surprise. "They're a little late for the party, don't you think?"

She laughs a bit. "Yeah, just a little. They brought us some things, pestered me for information and gossiped, which I guess is just like old times."

"What were they pestering you about?"

"Whether or not you and I had set up childcare for the baby," Spencer admits. "I know that we haven't, not technically anyway, but it's just another thing we have to consider now. I've been thinking… There's a really great daycare center at the school and we could bring the baby there? That way, he or she would be there with me and I could check on him or her and I'd be there in case anything happened."

"Alright, that sounds great," Toby agrees. "So what's the problem?"

"The problem is, I get the standard eight weeks off work," Spencer explains. "But I'll only have two weeks until classes start up again and the daycare doesn't care for babies under six weeks old."

"Oh. Yeah, that is an issue."

"My sister offered us her nanny," Spencer scoffs and Toby snorts.

"No _way_," He disagrees vehemently. "I mean to each their own, but I have no interest in becoming those parents who hardly see their kid because a _nanny_ takes care of everything."

"Oh good," She sighs in relief. "I was hoping you'd say that."

"We'll figure it out," Toby tells her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she settles against him. "Even if I have to take time off or you have to talk to your professors about extending your leave… We'll figure it out."

"Are you sure? We don't have that much time," She reflects. "It's only a matter of weeks, now."

"That's true," He comments. "It went by a lot faster than I'd expected."

"Yeah," Spencer says. "Doesn't everything?"


	3. and welcome you here

**Hello and welcome to all my new readers/followers/whatever else you've all done! Thank you all so so much for your support! I honestly couldn't have asked for anything more. Your encouraging words are what is keeping me going. I just want us all to be clear on what's to come, though. This chapter is the last of the "set-up" chapters, you know? From here on out, the chapters are going to come quicker and are going to be shorter, like half this length. It's going to be the three of them as a family, so if that's not your thing, then no worries. You really don't have to read/review/etc. and I won't take offense. Alright did we get that out of the way? Cool.**

**The chapter title comes from the song "The Moment I Saw You" by Nicolette Larson. It's a lullaby and I think it's absolutely perfect to set the tone for this chapter. Like it's so sweet, I definitely recommend listening to it. And as an apology in advance for those of you with sensitive stomachs (eyes?), I'm sorry about the mucus plug line and the focus on the contractions. It's not like I'm going into graphic detail or anything, but I just wanted you to be aware. That's the real world. Labor ain't cute, kids. ;)  
**

* * *

and welcome you here on the day you were born

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

Spencer rolls her eyes and struggles to pull her coat more firmly around her bulging frame. "Toby, they _need_ you. And I don't. Not right now, anyway."

He shoots her a skeptical look. "You don't need me? You couldn't put your shoes on this morning."

"In my defense, I haven't been able to see my feet since Thanksgiving," Spencer points out. "Just relax. You'll only be gone three days. What is the worst that could happen?"

Toby sighs. "I can think of plenty of things that fit that description."

"Well, none of it is going to happen," Spencer promises. "And anyway, you're going to the _Hamptons_. That's like two or three hours away. You're not going India. If anything were to happen- which it _won't_- you're not that far away. I'm not worried. You shouldn't be either."

"Too late," He tells her, craning his neck to press a kiss on her lips. "I'm worried for two, now."

She smiles, a hand on her stomach. "We'll be waiting for you when you get back."

He covers her hand with his, saying, "You stay in there, got it? You've got three weeks yet. Don't give your mother too much trouble."

"Drive carefully. And call me when you get there?" Spencer asks and when he nods she pulls him as close to her as he can get for a hug. "I love you."

"I love you, too," He murmurs. "And if anything happens-"

"I will call you immediately. I promise," She vows.

Toby kisses her one last time before departing and Spencer's left in their empty apartment. His boss had recently ordered all hands on deck to restore a rec center in East Hampton and though he'd tried hard to get out of it, it was to no avail. It's January 7th and Spencer isn't due for another three weeks, so she hadn't even balked when he'd told her. She loves him to death but truthfully she's looking forward to the alone time, even if it's only for a handful of days. She has plenty of work to catch up on and things to get together for their infant's upcoming arrival; she isn't going to use these days as a mere vacation. Soon, she and Toby's lives would most likely be flipped on their axes and she couldn't imagine how she'd be productive then. Therefore, these next few days were to be busy and prolific.

At least, that is the original plan. But the next morning, six-fifteen on January 8th, Spencer wakes up to a horrible stomachache that comes and goes in waves. It isn't until she practically crawls to the bathroom and promptly loses her mucus plug that she realizes she's probably in the earliest stage of labor. "Oh no. Oh my god, _no_."

To say she isn't quite prepared for this yet is an understatement. She's read all the books and has prepared herself that way, of course. Mentally, she's more than ready to have this baby and she knows everything that's going to happen from here on out. Physically and emotionally, on the other hand, she is not even the least bit ready for this. She dons a pair of super comfortable sweatpants and curls up on the couch, knowing she should rest now and conserve her energy for when she'll actually need it. Mindless television is all that's scheduled for a Saturday morning, but Spencer takes it in stride. If she focuses on that, perhaps she won't notice as her body begins to prepare itself for the miracle of life.

She does call Toby, of course, but is met with his voicemail, so she's sure he's knee deep in sawdust and hacksaws by now. Her sister and co. are still out of the country, the phone rings off the hook at her parents' house, and she can't reach Aria or Hanna. Emily, however, picks up on the first ring. "_Spence?_"

"Hey Em," She greets. "Thank you for being the only person around. I'm pretty sure I just went through the entirety of my contacts trying to get ahold of someone."

"_No problem. What's up?_"

"Are you doing anything of importance today?" She asks and can hear Emily hesitate.

"_I guess so. I'm having lunch with Paige. I think we might actually try to make it work._"

"Really?" Spencer exclaims. "That's great. I thought, after last time, you guys would be done for good."

"_Me too. I thought I ruined it permanently, but if Paige is willing to work for it, then so am I._"

"Good for you," Spencer smiles, but falters a bit as a contraction seizes her.

"_Why do you ask?_"

"There's a very good chance I'll be giving birth at some point today," Spencer explains. "And I was just wondering if you could maybe pass along the message. I'm going to try and reach my parents again but-"

"_Wait, what? You're in labor and you're that calm about it? Spence! This is huge!_"

"It's still early," She defends. "Just wait until the contractions are stronger and closer together. Will you tell the others?"

"_I'll do you one better- we're getting on the next train_."

Spencer grins. "You're the best."

A little after one o'clock, she finds herself still in the same position- lounging on the couch and gripping the throw pillow fiercely every time a contraction rips through her like wildfire. They're a little over fifteen minutes apart, now; she had finally gotten in touch with her parents and her father had all but had a heart attack on the phone before hanging up. She assumes they're on their way. Just as she's beginning to worry about Toby, the husband in question finally calls her back. She answers instantly and he's immediately apologetic.

"_Hey. I'm so sorry. I've literally had absolutely no time to check my phone. I've barely had time to breathe. I can see why they needed me here; we're short like six people._"

"Toby," She breathes his name and that's all she has to say for him to understand.

"_You're kidding. You've got to be kidding. What did I say?_"

"Can we please not play the 'I told you so' card?" Spencer pleads. "I need you to come home."

"_Of course I'm coming home! Where are you? Are you still at home? Are you alone?_"

"Yes, yes to both," She tells him. "The contractions are still pretty far apart. I won't be admitted until they get closer together."

"_I'm leaving now. I'm leaving right now and I'll be home as soon as I can. Look, if they get closer, go to the hospital and don't wait for me. I'll meet you there_."

"Okay," She yawns. "I'm going to try to take a nap."

"_Good. Just rest. Oh my god. I knew this was going to happen. I knew it!_"

"Toby, you're freaking out," Spencer comments. "You said you weren't going to."

"_I'm not freaking out! I'm so calm. I wish you could see how calm I am._"

She laughs. "Okay, sure. I wish you could see how much I don't believe you."

"_Go take a nap and I'll be home before you know it. We're that much closer to meeting our newborn with the six-pack._"

Grinning, she hangs up and tucks the phone away for later. The sleep she eventually falls into is restless, mainly because every ten or so minutes, it feels like she's being stabbed in the gut. But somehow she does manage to sleep for a good hour or so before she awakens disoriented and wondering what in the world is going on. The sky outside has darkened considerably and she's shivering, wondering if the temperature has plummeted with it. A flurry of snow is falling from the skies and Spencer frowns. If this turns into the blizzard she's expecting, it will likely delay the train her friends are on and make Toby's drive home treacherous. Just awesome and exactly what she wants.

She can no longer sleep through the pain and obviously she can't take anything for it, so she begins to time her contractions. First, she times the duration of each contraction- 55 seconds- then she measures the time in between- 8 minutes, 35 seconds- and then she runs out of things to measure, so she begins conjugating French verbs. When she grows tired of that, she begins listing off Russian czars. Then she begins to multiply random numbers by six thousand. Reciting her favorite passages of Dostoyevsky comes next, first in English, then in the original Russian. By the time she's done all of this, her contractions feel like needles being set on fire and she decides to head to the hospital.

Spencer texts Toby with her plan and makes it to the hospital by four o'clock. Surprisingly, they admit her right away, stationing her in triage as an OB/GYN on rotation comes in to check on her. Spencer's pretty sure she and this guy are the same age; he looks like he's fresh out of med school. "Good afternoon! My name's Dr. Christopher Robinson."

"Spencer Hastings," She introduces. "Where's Dr. Thomas?"

"She is currently delivering twins down the hall," Dr. Robinson grins. "I'll be filling in until she's finished."

He stations himself at the foot of her bed and the moment he begins her exam, her water breaks. He seems to think it's funny, but she flushes crimson. "I'm sorry."

"No, you couldn't have controlled it," He says. "Your waters were bulging; that would've happened had I been down there or not. You should know, though, labor's only going to get more intense from here."

"Great," Spencer sighs, reaching for her phone. There's still no word on Toby's location.

"Okay, looks like you're about 80% effaced and around five, maybe five and a half centimeters dilated," Dr. Robinson informs her. "Should be about a couple of hours until we can move you to L&D, at the rate you're going. Are you interested in the epidural?"

Spencer shakes her head. "No way."

"Alright," He smiles. "Then just sit tight, I guess."

So she does. Around four-fifteen, she gets a text from Aria saying she and the other two had gotten on the train and would be there around eight. At four-thirty, she gets a call from her mother about how her father's driving like a maniac, so if they make it alive, they'll be there soon. And finally, at four thirty-seven, she gets the call she was waiting for. "_Spence, it's me. I'm finally here. Where are you?_"

"Sixth floor," She says, breathing through a particularly painful contraction. "Never caught the room number. Ask for me at the front desk; they'll bring you back."

Her contractions are only three minutes apart now, so by the time he finally does get to her, she's suffering through another one. Toby practically runs to her side and slips his hand into hers, kissing her temple. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Traffic was insane and I had to stop for gas-"

"It's okay, it's okay, just please distract me from the pain," She pleads, gripping his hand like a vice. "Ask me something."

"Ask you what?"

"I don't know! Anything!"

"The states," He comes up with. "Name them all. In alphabetical order."

"Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas," She breathes through gritted teeth. "California, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Florida, Georgia… Hawaii… Idaho…"

She slows down as the contraction ebbs away and loosens her grip on his hand. "That worked, surprisingly."

He smirks. "I'm glad. We'll save the rest for next time."

She smiles wearily at him. "This is going to be a long night."

"I'm prepared," Toby insists. "So you said it wouldn't happen…"

Spencer rolls her eyes. "Didn't I tell you not to say 'I told you so'?"

"You just hate it when I'm right."

"No, it just isn't my fault," Spencer claims. "Baby Cavanaugh decided not to heed your warning and instead to arrive three weeks early. I didn't even get a chance to put fresh sheets in the crib."

"I'll do it tomorrow," Toby tells her. "Did you call your parents?"

"And the girls," She nods. "Did you call yours?"

He hesitates, but before he can answer, another contraction slices through her. He probes instead, "Who was the thirty-second president of the United States?"

"FDR, that's easy."

"What are the six noble gases on the periodic-"

"Helium, neon, argon, krypton, xenon and radon," She hisses. "Come on, challenge me."

"What's been the most difficult part of your pregnancy so far?"

"The coffee. Definitely giving up coffee," She admits. "But this is a close second."

"You never finished the states!"

"Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine," She breathes and then she's good again. "The most difficult part of my pregnancy? That's not even trivia."

"Hey, you're the one who was in those ridiculous decathlons, not me," He defends. "I don't know what to ask you."

Dr. Robinson comes in to examine her once more a little after five thirty and introduces himself to Toby. He also gives an update on the twins- one down, one to go- and tells the couple that their doctor will be with them as soon as she can. A contraction cuts through her just as he's beginning the exam (_Maryland, Massachusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada_) and he tells her she's officially 100% effaced, but still only seven centimeters dilated. He asks for the last time if she wants an epidural, as after this moment it will no longer be an option and she once again declines. He bids her farewell and another contraction bookends his departure (_New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, North Dakota, Ohio_).

"Seeing you in pain is killing me," Toby openly admits. "Are you sure you don't want the drugs?"

"Newsflash Tobes, it's going to get worse before it gets better," She smiles gratefully as he mops her brow with a washcloth. "I don't want the drugs. I don't want the baby to come out all lethargic and unresponsive. I want him or her to come out screaming and crying and flailing. If that means I have to suffer for that to happen, then so be it."

"And by extension, you want me to suffer?" He teases and she shoots him a look.

"Hey, you vowed in good times and in bad," Spencer reminds him. "You're stuck with me."

"'Stuck' isn't really the word I'd use."

She smiles a bit and then asks, "You never answered me before. Did you call your parents?"

He looks away. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because they freaked out when we got engaged, they came to our wedding and complained the whole time and when I told them we were expecting, they were less than thrilled," Toby sighs. "You'd think they would care, considering it's their first grandchild, but I just honestly don't see them giving a shit. It sucks but… That's just who they are."

Spencer frowns. "And you're okay with that?"

He shrugs. "What choice do I have? They're too set in their ways now to retract."

She presses on, "Is it me? Do they not like me?"

"No! Who wouldn't like you?" Toby assures her. "It isn't you at all. It's me. They don't approve of anything I've done since I moved out _years_ ago and they're still holding it against me. I would've thought they could bury the hatchet and be happy for me, for _us_, but I guess they're more immature than I thought."

Before she can respond with sympathy, she's gripping his hand for support and instead reciting, "Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas…"

"How are we doing in here?" Their doctor, Dr. Thomas, greets. "Man, quite the night for a birthday, am I right? Your son or daughter certainly isn't alone. Must be the full moon!"

Spencer smiles weakly. Toby nods his agreement. "Please tell me we're at least close. It's almost seven."

"I'll let you know in just a few moments," Dr. Thomas announces, checking the fetal heart monitor before taking her place at the foot of the bed. "Everything seems to be in order here. Your little bugger has quite the heartbeat. Right about now is when we start to see the baby's vitals kind of drop a bit, but not yours. You've got an overachiever."

"Sounds like mom," Toby says, nudging his wife, who chuckles in response.

"Alright, you're at nine! Almost there!" Dr. Thomas cheers. "Another hour. Maybe less?"

But it's actually two hours until Dr. Thomas brings her good news; she's finally dilated to ten centimeters and they can proceed to a delivery room. Her contractions are stronger than she could have ever imagined (_Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West Virginia, Wisconsin, Wyoming_) and even Toby's most difficult questions don't distract her anymore. They're every sixty seconds and they last about sixty seconds, so she's more or less in an endless stream of pain. Spencer tries to focus on literally anything else; the nurses bounding about, the blipping of the fetal heart monitor, the blue medical sheet they're pulling over her legs, Toby's encouraging words. Nothing is taking her mind off the pain. She hopes this kid has the best possible life imaginable, she hopes this kid lives his or her life to the fullest, because this is the hardest thing she's ever done.

There's a ring of fire igniting in her nether regions, now. It's searing and excruciating and unbearable. Dr. Thomas calls out, "Alright, the baby's crowning. You're doing great, Spencer. I can see the head! Toby, would you like to see?"

He hesitates and Spencer says, "If you look, if you so much as move from this spot, I will murder you."

It's the most menacing her voice has ever sounded and honestly, he really didn't want to sneak a peek anyway. "I'm not going anywhere. Keep it up. You're doing amazing."

"I think it's best if you don't talk to me," She says in between pushing. "I don't want to be meaner to you than I already was."

He laughs. "I don't think it gets worse than promising to kill me."

"You'd be surprised."

Somehow the pain increases exponentially, but nearly disappears as though someone's flipped a switch the second the baby's head emerges. Dr. Thomas beckons for the bulb syringe and begins to suction out the baby's nose and mouth- and then they hit a roadblock. "Spencer, I need you to stop pushing immediately. Can I get a pair of forceps, please? ASAP."

"What's wrong?" Spencer asks alarmed. "What's going on?"

"The baby's right shoulder is stuck. I'm afraid if you push anymore you'll break her collarbone," Dr. Thomas says, slipping the cool metal beneath the sheet. "Don't worry- this is not going to hurt her."

Spencer still looks fearful, but Toby asks, "Her?"

"Oh yeah," Dr. Thomas says sheepishly. "I kind of ruined the surprise, didn't I?"

The second she has a good enough grip on the baby, she motions for Spencer to push again, but only ever so gently. She does as she's told and almost instantly, the baby comes free and tumbles into the doctor's arms. Dr. Thomas immediately places the baby onto Spencer's stomach and announces, "Congratulations! It's a girl!"

She's got a head full of dark curly locks and a set of incredibly impressive lungs. The nurses wipe her down with the blue sheet, the blood and amniotic fluid and vernix giving way to her reddish pink skin and her squirming limbs. She's screaming, her entire face screwed up in anguish, but she's tiny and precious and easily the most beautiful thing Toby and Spencer have ever seen. One of the nurses asks if Toby would like to cut the umbilical cord and he nods wordlessly, taking the scissors and slicing where instructed, watching as the spongy material breaks apart and the nurses clamp the end still attached to his daughter. They carry her to the far side of the room to more adequately clean her off and take her measurements as Toby, in awe, glances at his spectacular wife.

She's absolutely spent; she's sweaty and worn and there's a kind of exhaustion in her eyes Toby's never seen before. Understandably so; her body had just worked in overdrive for over sixteen hours. He bends down and kisses her because he just can't help himself. Every time he thinks that Spencer's amazingness has reached its peak, she does something else that blows his mind and his world flips on its axis. When they're through, he whispers, "I understand if you still want to murder me, but that is the most amazing thing I've ever seen and I love you so, _so_ much."

Spencer grins. "I love you, too. I don't want to kill you. I'm sorry I said that."

He laughs and a nurse calls, "Daddy? We've got a present for you."

Toby turns around and the nurse places the tiny bundle that is his daughter into his arms. "10:38 p.m. on January 8th, baby girl Cavanaugh made her way into the world. She's eight pounds, three ounces, twenty-two inches long. And she's beautiful. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Toby says, but his eyes don't leave his daughter. Now that she's swaddled in tight, she's perfectly content and her screaming fit is over for now. But she's taken his breath away and Toby's heard it all before- how people don't _truly_ know what love is until they've had a child. He's heard these things, sure, but he's never understood them. Until now, of course. Because one look into the tiny, angelic face of his daughter, one mere glance at her miniature fingers curled around her blanket and her little button nose and her tiny raspberry of a mouth, has got him hooked. Everything he's ever done has paled in comparison to this very moment. Without a doubt, creating this tiny and perfect little human is the best thing he's ever done.

He kisses her forehead and tells her, "Hey little monkey. I'm your daddy… and I love you _very_ much."

When he turns, Spencer already has tears in her eyes, but beckons, "I want to hold her!"

Toby lowers the baby into her arms and sits upon the bed beside her. Spencer laughs a little and says, "She kind of looks like you."

"How can you possibly tell that already?" Toby jokes. "She's been out of the womb for like twenty minutes."

"I don't know. I just see it," She replies as the baby yawns. "She's so beautiful."

"Yes," Toby agrees. "Takes after her mother, that way."

Spencer grins and kisses him languidly. They gaze upon their perfect little miracle for a while longer before Spencer suggests, "I want to name her Grace."

"Grace," Toby repeats, testing the name on his tongue. "Yeah, I can get on board with that. That's a great name."

"Isn't it?" Spencer agrees. "She looks like a Grace."

"She does," Toby nods. "It's perfect. Grace Cavanaugh. Grace…"

He trails off, searching for a middle name, but Spencer adds, "Marion."

The overwhelming love, pride and raw emotion in Toby's eyes nearly bring Spencer to tears. She's certainly shocked him into silence, so she says, "Grace Marion. It flows nicely, don't you think?"

"Grace Marion," Toby tests, his voice breaking over his mother's name. "I love it."

"I do, too."

"And I love you," He tells her. "I love you so very much."

"I love you, too, Toby," Spencer says. "With all of my heart."

Toby trails a finger down little Grace's cheek and announces, "Grace Marion Cavanaugh."

Spencer grins. "Welcome to the world."


	4. when the tears come streaming

**Happy Friday, all. I'm literally holding my breath and hoping you'll like the direction I'm taking this story in. I'm afraid you won't. Also, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed by the length, because this is literally a third of the length of the last chapter. But we're going for it anyway. Plus I have almost all the chapters written out ahead of time anyway, so I'll be able to update with increasing frequency. That's got to count for something, right?**

**The chapter title comes from "Fix You" by Coldplay but I'm sure you already knew that. There's an old saying on Tumblr- if "Fix You" can't apply to your OTP, it's not an OTP. I like to believe that's true. :D  
**

* * *

when the tears come streaming down your face

The rest of the month of January is pretty uneventful; everything pretty much pales in comparison to bringing new life into the world. Toby and Spencer receive seemingly endless gifts and visits from their friends and family, to the point where they're almost worried Grace will suffocate from all the love. It takes two weeks following her birth for Toby's father and stepmother to make the trip to New York City and meet their granddaughter. They bring Jenna, too, and without being able to see the infant, she still treats her niece better and with a more welcoming demeanor than her own parents. Frustration builds within Spencer, but Toby silently tells her to let it go. They had made the trip, after all; he couldn't have _everything_.

February is bitter cold, with temperatures dropping well below zero and putting all of Toby's work on hold. He doesn't mind, though; it just means he gets to spend more time at home falling in love with his daughter. While Spencer attends class and work during the day, Toby remains in the warm confines of their apartment, doing mindless housework, drawing up construction plans and attending to his daughter's every need. Somehow, he manages to get everything done within a timely fashion and, on most nights, has dinner ready and waiting for Spencer by the time she returns home. She tells him it's a life she could certainly get used to and it's something both of them miss by the time March rolls around and the city begins to thaw.

Plenty of things happen back at home in March. Hanna, too, gives birth to a beautiful and blonde little girl she and Caleb name McKenzie, and Grace's first visit to Rosewood occurs that very weekend so Toby and Spencer can introduce her to her first playmate. Ezra and Aria break up for good this time and although the girls try to be as supportive as possible, everyone's pretty relieved, to say the least. They're shocked, however, when just a week later, Aria rebounds with Jason DiLaurentis. Spencer has to wonder if there had always been more under the surface between them and if Aria had broken up with Ezra for more than the fact that he was mildly insane. But Emily's news is what really takes the cake- she and Paige come back from vacation not only married, but with the announcement that they're planning to adopt. It's a whirlwind for all parties involved and Spencer's honestly glad she's so far away, because the distance allows her space to process it all.

By April, Spencer's first year of her doctorate program is winding down and thus, she's growing far busier as she struggles to keep up with her rapidly approaching deadlines. The spring weather has apparently also set off a massive wave of carpentry needs, because she barely sees Toby anymore. He's home when she's not and vice versa; the last exchange they'd had was three days ago when she'd passed him the baby and left the apartment. It's a huge strain and she cannot wait until she's finished and the two can try and rebuild what's been damaged. But until her exams are finished and all her observations are turned in and she's run the draft of her dissertation by her advisor, that won't be happening any time soon.

And of course, Grace's colic is not helping the situation.

"Pro and anti-social behavior in a group setting," Spencer reads aloud, trying to balance her textbook in one arm and a screaming Grace in the other. "Is often influenced by…"

It's pretty much useless; she can't focus on anything but the agonizing cries emanating from her daughter. Grace has been like this for a good few weeks, now; nothing Spencer and Toby had tried could calm her incessant crying. Their pediatrician had told them that, unfortunately, colic seized some infants and it's perfectly normal, even if it is heartbreaking to listen to. She gave the new parents a pamphlet with information and suggestions on how to calm her. So far, none of them have worked. Spencer uncaps her pen and scribbles something in the margins of the textbook, sticking a post-it on the page to remember to cite it later. How she's getting anything done is beyond her comprehension; Grace certainly isn't making it easy.

"Associative regression… that's not the same thing as… wait, where's my-" Eventually, she throws in the towel. "Forget it. I can't do this right now."

Abandoning ship, Spencer tosses her work aside and stands, bouncing the baby a little in her arms. "Okay, Gracie, okay. You're alright, you're alright."

It's heart wrenching to watch her daughter's face screwed up in anguish, tears of exhaustion pouring from her eyes. But mostly, Spencer just finds it frustrating, because there is literally nothing she can do about it. She places her in the baby swing and attempts to get her to calm down that way, but that only makes the baby angrier. Walking around the apartment, singing songs, reading books- nothing helps. Physically and mentally exhausted, Spencer places her daughter gently on the couch and begins to swaddle her in tight to restrain her flailing limbs. Once she's satisfied with this, she begins alternately swinging Grace back and forth and bouncing her up and down.

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay," Spencer hums lowly. "Come on, now, Grace. You're all right. Shh…"

She does this standing until she cannot anymore, because Grace's efforts have fully exhausted her. Eventually, she sinks into the couch, not halting her ministrations and still holding on tightly to her daughter. Maybe all the crying has made her delirious, but she thinks, eventually, that Grace begins to calm down. Whatever she's doing now, half-asleep on the couch, has actually begun to soothe the fussy infant. She's not delirious and she's not dreaming; when Spencer cracks an eye open to glance at her daughter, the tears have stopped, the redness is beginning to fade from her face and her eyelids are growing impossibly heavy. In seconds, mother and daughter are fast asleep.

That is, until Toby comes home and lets the front door shut not so carefully behind him.

With a jolt, both Spencer and Grace are awake, the latter bursting into a fresh set of hysterical sobs and Spencer growing red with anger. "Toby… what did you do?"

"I'm sorry," He's immediately panicking. "I'm sorry! They must have the windows open across the hall! The cross-breeze and the door-"

"Toby it took me all afternoon," Spencer argues. "_All afternoon_ to get her to calm down! She's been crying like this for weeks- _weeks!_ – and I finally got her to stop. I finally-"

"I'm sorry," He tells her sincerely. "It's my fault. Let me fix it."

Spencer looks near tears herself and shuffles the baby into his arms. "I can't do it. I can't."

"I know," Toby says understandingly. "Let me."

He folds the blanket around his daughter a little tighter as Spencer, completely worn, sinks back into the couch. "You get some work done. Grace and I are going for a walk."

She nods miserably and Toby snatches his keys from the table he'd just thrown them on. "Ready to go, monkey? Let's give mommy a break, yeah?"

He heads down to the parking garage and finds his truck still warm from when he'd used it just moments ago. Strapping Grace into her car seat, he decides what she really needs is just a good, relaxing ride, despite the fact that driving in New York City is dangerous, stressful and not in the least bit fun. He's willing to do it, though, if it means guaranteeing his daughter some peace. Toby drives around the city, through Times Square, by Central Park and from one end of Manhattan to the other. It takes a while, but along the way, Grace quiets down, her bright blue eyes searching her new surroundings and trying to keep up before giving in. Sensory overload and the blur of activity outside lull her to sleep.

It's late by the time Toby arrives home and very, _very_ carefully extricates his daughter from her car seat. He takes extra care to open and shut the front door as though it were made of glass. Grace's eyes are firmly closed, sealed in the remnants of her final tears, and she's sucking her thumb noiselessly just as their doctor had pointed out all those months ago. Toby would love to share his latest victory with his wife, but he stops short at the sight of her passed out among a cluttered mess of her notes, books and writing utensils. After he's gently placed Grace in her crib, he comes back into the living room and emits a small laugh. Ironically, fast asleep in the world of behavioral psychology, this is the most at peace he'd seen her in weeks.

He slips his arms around her shoulders and beneath her knees and carries her to bed, too.


	5. it was cold but it got warm

**Hello again all! So here's another update for you. I'm writing them ahead of time, so I should be able to update once a day, maybe twice if you're lucky! ;) I only have three chapters left to write which is pretty fulfilling. I'm really glad you guys are liking it so far and I hope you continue to! Okay yeah. This chapter title once again comes from "The Gambler" by Fun. What can I say? It's perfection.  
**

* * *

it was cold but it got warm when you barely crossed my eye

"You are not a fan of the squash," Toby laughs at the grimaces Grace is making. "I will keep that in mind for next time."

"She looks so conflicted," Emily grins. "She loves the turkey and the sweet potatoes, but the squash she could do without."

"Just a few more bites, monkey," Toby promises, scraping the spoon along the bottom of the plastic container. "Then you can have your fruit."

"Ooh, vanilla custard pudding with bananas?" Emily entices. "I'm so jealous, Grace!"

It's an unbearably hot afternoon in mid-August, with temperatures pushing one hundred and the smog and humidity certainly not helping matters. Emily's come to visit; she and Paige are in the city for the weekend, mostly to meet with prospective birth parents, and while the latter meets up with some old swim teammates from college, Emily meets Toby for lunch at a café near his apartment. Spencer's tied up too, regretfully, running a back-to-school seminar for incoming psych students at Columbia, so it's just the two of them, hanging out like old times. Well, just the two of them and Grace, of course. The seven-month-old squeals and babbles hungrily from the high chair beside her father, because he just isn't feeding her quickly enough for her liking.

"I can't get over how much she looks like you," Emily comments. "Especially when she smiles."

"You think so?" Toby wonders amusedly. "I look at her and all I see is Spencer."

"No way! Look at those big beautiful eyes. They're _piercingly_ blue," Emily says. "That's all you. One hundred percent."

"I guess," He agrees. "The doctor kept saying babies' eyes usually change color, especially if they're blue, but hers never did."

"I guess we know who will be winning 'Best Eyes' in high school," Emily states and then laughs a bit when Grace whines, clearly frustrated that her father is struggling to get her pudding open. "And 'Most Demanding Personality'!"

Toby smirks, finally successful, and dips the spoon into her mouth. "Yeah, she takes after her mother for sure."

"Isn't it crazy how old we got so fast?" Emily remarks after a beat of silence. "I mean we're _married_. We have _children_. Sometimes, I wish I could go back in time and tell fifteen-year-old me that everything is eventually going to be okay. It would have made high school a lot easier."

Toby has momentary flashbacks of his mother's death, of juvie, of Jenna and nods his agreement. "Have you and Paige settled on parents yet?"

"More like have parents settled on _us_," Emily corrects. "We met with a girl, a teenager, who we really liked and who we thought really liked us but… It turns out her parents are against gay marriage and they won't let her go through with it."

"They're against gay marriage but they're not against teen pregnancy?" Toby sneers. "That's rich. You'd think people like that would wake up and realize they're in the minority, here. They're not going to win this fight."

Emily smiles. "Yeah. There are some really close-minded people out there. What does it matter if a man and a woman, or two men, or two women raise a baby? If the baby's loved and cared for, that's all that matters, right?"

"Hey, you don't have to convince me," Toby teases. "I'm on your side, Em."

"I know," She grins. "And you always have been."

"I could say the same about you," Toby tells her, wiping Grace's face with the napkin once she's finished. He plucks her out of the high chair and positions her in the crook of his arm, tilting the bottle he's brought into her mouth as she sucks sleepily. "She should only be a few minutes and then we can get out of here."

"Oh please, take your time," Emily says. "It's a million degrees outside and I'm not looking forward to leaving the air conditioning."

But leave the air conditioning they eventually must and when they do, the sweltering heat greets them like an old friend. Toby and Emily part ways, the latter going off to meet Paige and the former heading home to put Grace down for a nap. When he arrives home, however, his apartment is somehow hotter than it is outside. He places the sweaty, sleeping baby in her crib and calls the landlord, concerned that the thermostat says the apartment is 102 degrees. The landlord, a grumpy old woman, tells him it's expelling heat instead of AC and she's not sure how to fix it. When Toby attempts a fix, he finds it's broken beyond repair. They're going to have to get someone who specializes in this down here _stat_.

Until then, he turns on every fan in the apartment and lounges by the crib, watching Grace's little chest rise and fall rhythmically, slightly concerned she might overheat. It's deathly hot; his shirt is sticking to his back, his hair is plastered to his forehead and he feels so uncomfortable, he's not sure how Grace is so peacefully sleeping. When she does awaken, she's cranky and irritable as though she never really slept. Go figure. Toby blames the heat; he pulls off her clothing and sits her before her toys in only a diaper. It might look strange, but she's far more comfortable without the confining and suffocating outfit she'd been clothed in. Toby knows he should probably get started on dinner, but he really doesn't feel like cooking. The last thing he needs is for the apartment to get any hotter. Instead, he settles on the couch and watches as Grace engages in the colorful toys before her. As a last resort, he peels off his shirt. And then his pants.

And this, of course, is the sight Spencer comes home to moments later.

"I'm gone for six hours," She balks, too surprised to even move from the doorway. "And you two turn this place into a strip club?"

Toby chuckles. "It's _hot_, Spence."

"Yeah, I'll say. It's hotter than _hell_ in here," Spencer announces, slipping out of her heels and shedding her blazer. "What's going on?"

"Furnace is shot and is blowing hot air instead of cool," Toby explains. "I did my best to try and fix it, but that's really not my area of expertise."

"Well that's awful," She comments and grins at the sight of her daughter, kneeling beside her and scooping her into her arms. "Hi baby girl! How was your day? Did you have fun with daddy?"

Grace squeals in delight and immediately engrosses herself with the infamous Scrabble necklace around her mother's neck. Spencer kisses her cheek and asks Toby, "How was lunch with Emily?"

"Good," Toby nods. "It's been awhile so it was nice to catch up."

"I wish I could've joined you," Spencer laments. "Was Paige there?"

"No, she was meeting some former teammates."

"Oh," Spencer says and when the baby squirms, she places her back on the floor. "Well, we should probably figure out something for dinner."

"It's too hot to eat," Toby complains, grabbing her hand and tugging her down on the couch beside him. "It's too hot to do _anything_."

Spencer chastises, "You whine almost as much as Grace does, you know that?"

Toby shoots her a look but before he can reply with a disapproving retort, something else catches his eye. Spencer follows his line of vision and watches as Grace, fed up with her inability to acquire a toy that is just slightly out of reach, pushes herself to all fours. She rocks a bit, a little unsteady, as if attempting to propel herself forward. Shakily, she moves one hand forward and drags the opposite knee behind it. Slowly, she does the same with her other hand and knee and then giggles a bit when she realizes that this is actually getting her places. Grace continues this sort of movement until she's right in front of the toy she wants. Happily, she sits back and plays and her parents watch in awe.

"Did she just…?" Toby questions.

"Oh my god, she's crawling!" Spencer exclaims. "She's never done that before!"

They gather their daughter in their arms, kissing her, telling her how proud they are and exclaiming their love.

Grace, however, is not amused. They've pulled her from the toy she worked so hard to obtain and she promptly throws a fit over her disruption.


	6. she has eyes just like her father's

**Doth thine eyes deceive thee? No they do not, here I am with update round two. Why, you ask? Because I'm celebrating and I want you to join! I just finished writing the final chapter of this story, what whaaat! It got away from me, this tricky little bastard. I had originally planned for it to be ten chapters, then fifteen, and now it's 28. Ha! Well, just proves how much I can't shut up. :P**

**Blah blah blah chapter title's from "The Gambler" by Fun. blah blah blah. I do listen to and use other songs, I swear. :P Thanks for all the amazing feedback! Keep it coming and I'll keep these coming! :D  
**

* * *

she has eyes just like her father's; they are blue when skies are gray

In the fall, once the blazing summer heat wanes into crisper air and the changing colors of the leaves, Spencer begins her final year of schooling and Toby starts to draft a design for their future home. They're not quite sure where they're going to end up following the awarding of her doctorate, but they know that the cramped quarters of their New York City apartment are not suitable for optimal family living. With Grace growing everyday, they know they will eventually outgrow their home and thus, they'll need a replacement. Of course this is where's Toby's expertise comes in handy; they don't need to hire a contractor to build them a house.

By Thanksgiving, Grace is walking, Spencer's in over her head with work, and Toby's got most of the house plans laid out. When they travel home to Rosewood for Christmas, Spencer's family remarks at how much Grace has grown in such a short time and Toby contacts his former boss about possibly getting a plot of land in town on which to build the house he'd designed. His boss does him one better; he'll employ a handful of his best employees to get started on the job right away. He also lets Toby know that if they do plan on Rosewood being their permanent place of residence, his former job will always be waiting for him. After they ring in the New Year, Grace turns one and their friends and the entire family- yes, even Toby's side- attends the celebration.

Spencer's final semester goes without obstacles; she passes all of her final evaluations and her dissertation truly impresses her professors. The graduation ceremony is set for the end of May and, coincidentally, it's when their lease runs out. They plan to head back to Rosewood, if only for a while, and Toby makes sure to have their house built by then. He's been making weekend trips to oversee things, just in case. By the time May does roll around, Toby lets his employers know gently that he will be leaving at the end of the month and his boss isn't too pleased. To make him pay for this, he sends Toby to South Carolina on grunt work. For three weeks.

"_Three weeks?_" Spencer exclaims when he tells her. "You've never had to go _anywhere_ for that long! That's ridiculous."

"No, no, no!" Grace agrees from her mother's arms, shaking her head.

"Look, I know it's not ideal," Toby says, encircling his arms around her waist and kissing Grace's cheek. "But it's not that bad. I'll be back in time for your ceremony and then we can get out of this city."

She eyes him. "I feel like he's doing this just to spite you."

"Oh he is," Toby agrees. "He doesn't want to me to leave, I guess. Which is hilarious, actually, when you take into consideration the fact that I told him from day one I wasn't going to be here permanently."

"No, no!" Grace says again. It's one of four words she can say at sixteen months old and it's certainly her favorite.

Toby steals her from Spencer's grasp, asking, "Are you going to miss me, Gracie?"

"No!"

Spencer laughs. Toby shrugs, "Well at least she's honest."

When the time comes for him to depart, he kisses his girls goodbye and tells Spencer, "Make sure she doesn't forget who I am."

She rolls her eyes. "As if she'd forget her father."

"You never know," Toby says, his concern half-genuine. "I don't know how infant memory works, but three weeks is a long time."

"She won't forget. She loves you," Spencer punctuates this statement with a kiss. "And so do I."

Once his plane takes off, Spencer gets a nice dose of what it's like to be a single parent and to say she detests it would be an understatement. She likes to think she and Toby compliment each other well; they work as a team and they always have. When he needs space to get his work done, Spencer occupies Grace and vice versa. When they both have downtime, they're always spending it as a family, just the three of them. Sixteen months into this, she and Toby have certainly grasped the art of co-parenting and to have that suddenly taken away, if only for a handful of weeks, is not ideal.

Grace tries to use a spoon one morning and ends up spilling her oatmeal all over the speech Spencer's so meticulously typed out for a meeting she has later that day. After dropping her off at daycare a few days later, Spencer realizes she'd left her briefcase with her daughter and taken the bag full of Grace's things with her instead. And in the evenings, Spencer spends more time focused on her notebook than on Grace, which the latter is not impressed with. Ultimately, Spencer finds it nearly impossible to find a middle ground. She wants to spend endless time with her daughter, but those deadlines…

One night, about halfway through Toby's time in South Carolina, he calls through FaceTime and Spencer answers gratefully. "Hi. How are you?"

"_I'm fine. How are you? You look exhausted_."

"I am," Spencer agrees. "Grace is here too. Can you see her?"

"_I think a see a foot?_"

Spencer pulls her daughter into her lap. "Better?"

"_Better! Hi Grace! I miss you, monkey_."

Grace, utterly confused at how her father could be in a computer screen, stares back wide-eyed. She points at him and asks, "Ma-ma?"

"Yeah, do you see daddy?" Spencer grins. "Say hi daddy! Say we miss you!"

Grace leans forward, her face inches from the screen, and crawls almost on top of the computer. She must hit a button or two on the way there, because the call is lost and Toby disappears in seconds. "Uh oh!"

"Yeah, uh oh," Her mother laughs. "You just hung up on daddy."

By the time Spencer calls back, Grace has lost interest in the conversation and Toby comments, "_See? She forgot who I am_."

"She knows who you are," Spencer disagrees. "She just doesn't understand technology."

"_Yeah, yeah. So how are things?_"

"Difficult," Spencer admits. "And I'm ready for you to come home."

"_Trust me, there's nowhere I'd rather be_."

And eventually, that moment finally comes. It's unseasonably warm for the end of May, pushing almost 80, so Spencer puts Grace in a sundress and a matching headband. It isn't something she'd usually do, but she figures it's a special occasion. She slips white sandals on her daughter's tiny feet and then the two are off to JFK. Toby's flight gets in a little after two o'clock; Spencer had been hyping up Toby's arrival all week. It isn't as though she believed that Grace had forgotten him, but she wanted to be sure Grace knew how exciting it would be to finally have him home again. Plus, of course, she'd worked out a little surprise with Grace to be sure Toby knew his daughter would never forget who he is.

They wait by the baggage claim and it's insanely crowded today. Spencer suspects commencement weekend at not only Columbia but NYU as well must be the cause of the congestion. She has Grace by the hand, but ultimately decides that in her arms is probably a safer location. When the arrival board changes, Spencer keeps a tight hold on her daughter and an eye on the crowd emerging from the terminals. Eventually she spots him and he grins at her even from a mile away. Spencer bounces Grace a bit in her arms, asking, "Hey Gracie, who's that?"

"Da-da!" She squeals and shimmies out of Spencer's arms. The moment she on her feet, she runs as fast as teeny tiny little legs can carry her. It's a sight that nearly makes Spencer's heart leap out of her chest. Toby stops walking, tosses his bag to the ground and waits with open arms as Grace launches herself into them. Spencer would love to do the same, but she holds back a bit, watching as the two loves of her life reunite so beautifully before her. Toby stands, bringing his daughter with him, and kisses her over and over. He swings the bag he'd recently tossed aside over his back as he comes closer.

"Da-da!" Grace squeals again and Toby beams with pride.

"No way," He grins. "Gracie, you _finally_ said it!"

"We've been working on that for you," Spencer tells him, her body drawing her to him like a magnet.

"Thank you. Seriously. It's so great to hear her say it," Toby wraps his free arm around his wife and brings her in tight. "God, I missed you so much."

Spencer closes her eyes against his shoulder, murmuring, "You have no idea."


	7. your heart isn't breaking

**Procrastination station today, friends. I mean honestly- avoiding working on her Mary Todd Lincoln presentation, party of one? Oh yeah, that's me. So instead I'm here because obviously that's a better choice. :P Anyway, that doesn't matter. Senioritis has fully set in and I've mentally checked out on this semester (commencement weekend is so close...). So hopefully this lovely Sunday is finding you well, because for me? Eh.**

**Surprise- the chapter title is from "Light A Roman Candle With Me" by Fun. See, I do know other songs! :D  
**

* * *

your heart isn't breaking and mine isn't making a sound

And so the time comes for the Cavanaugh family to pack up their things and leave the Big Apple to return to Rosewood. May wanes into June and then July as they return to the town where everything began- their lives, their tormenting, their love. To say everyone's glad to see them is an understatement. Spencer's family is glad to be able to see Grace more often and insists they come over for weekly visits. The girls are glad their ringleader has come back to town for more reasons than one. Rosewood is exactly the same as when they'd left it; small, warm and a bit damaged, but mostly okay. For a few weeks, Spencer wonders if the A texts will start again. They don't and she doesn't think about them again.

The town might still be the same, but so much has happened since they'd left. Hanna's boutique is easily the most successful business, now, and she, Caleb and McKenzie are the talk of the town. Emily's swim team had made nationals for three years in a row and she and Paige got double trouble when they adopted a set of fifteen-month-old fraternal twins in August. And Aria found herself pregnant and unmarried, which she and Jason covered up by getting eloped before anyone knew about the child. By September, she's ready to pop and Spencer's absolutely thrilled that Grace will have another cousin to play with.

Speaking of Grace, at twenty months old, her vocabulary has expanded exponentially and her motor skills have grown more finely tuned. Toby and Spencer are actually able to have somewhat stilted conversations with her now. The former had been able to secure his past job upon their return and Spencer in fact ran into Dr. Sullivan who insisted she come work for her practice. It seems as though they're finally getting back into a certain groove again and even though Rosewood isn't exactly where they would like to stay the rest of their lives, they're pretty happy for now.

And then, one late September night, they get a visitor they certainly never expected.

It's bath time and Grace _hates_ bath time; she downright detests it and there's nothing more trying than attempting to get her clean. But they'd had spaghetti for dinner and she is a _mess_. There's sauce in places that honestly Toby and Spencer can't even imagine how she got them there. So as Spencer is stripping off Grace's clothing and adding them to a pile of dirty laundry in the next room, muttering in irritation as she does so because Grace has already pitched a fit, Toby is loading the dishwasher. He's filling the sink with hot water and soap when the doorbell rings and Grace begins fussing even louder. Toby calls out that he'll get the door but he's not even sure Spencer's heard it. When he unlocks the deadbolt and swings the door open, he does a double take.

It's Alison DiLaurentis and there was a time when Toby thought that if he never saw Alison again, it would be too soon. As she stands before him now, he realizes that time still hasn't passed. "Hi Toby. Lovely evening we're having, isn't it?"

"Alison," He exhales finally and she smirks in that way that she's always done.

"I brought a present for the baby," She says, reaching into her bag and retrieving a teddy bear. "I guess she's not a baby anymore, is she? How old is she now?"

"Almost two," Toby answers, still staring dumbfounded.

Alison rolls her eyes. "Well are you going to let me in or are you going to make me stand out here all night?"

He steps aside and she crosses the threshold as he shuts the door behind her. Grace is still wailing in the kitchen and Alison asks, "Jeez, what are you doing to her?"

"She doesn't like bath time," Toby comments, ripping off a paper towel and beginning to clean Grace's face.

"Can't say I blame her," Alison grins, bending over the baby. "It's always more fun to get dirty, isn't it Grace?"

Spencer enters again, a bit flustered, asking, "Toby, where are the-"

The question dies on her lips as she notices their company and Alison stands tall, saying, "Hello, Spencer."

The brunette in question has been rendered speechless; a state not easily acquired. Toby lifts their spaghetti-clad daughter into his arms and suggests, "Why don't I give her a bath so you two can talk?"

Spencer manages to snap out of it for a moment to ask, "I can't find the stack of clean towels I _literally_ just pulled from the dryer."

"Relax," He tells her. "I already folded them and put them away."

Her face melts a bit in gratitude. "You're a lifesaver."

He smiles, kisses her forehead and heads up the stairs to take on the nightly daunting task. Alison comments, "I don't know why I wondered what it would be like to visit you two. You guys acted like you were married before you were married. It's only increased, I'm afraid."

"What are you doing here?" Spencer asks. "The last anybody heard from you, you were in Japan, or something."

"Yeah, I was. And before that I was in Greece and Italy and Switzerland. And Egypt, too, but you couldn't pay me to go back there again," Alison says. "You don't know what it's like to have to hide for three years, Spencer. I wasn't allowed to _live_ and now that I can, I want to see everything. I want to know what I've been missing."

"So you're back," Spencer notes. "For good, then?"

"No," Alison shakes her head. "I'll probably never stay anywhere permanently. Where's the fun in that?"

"O-Okay…"

Alison laughs. "Wow. I've never made Spencer Hastings speechless before. I kind of like this side of you. It's good to know it exists. You can't be all fire and passion all the time, can you?"

"I guess I just don't understand why you're here," Spencer crosses her arms over her chest. "You made it very clear when you came back after… everything that I wasn't your favorite person."

"Oh Spencer, you were never my favorite person," Alison rolls her eyes. "Don't tell me you didn't know that."

Spencer frowns. "I knew it. I never knew why you were friends with me in the first place."

"Spencer, please. Don't undermine yourself," Alison chastises. "You and I are basically the same person. We're two sides of the same coin. We're leaders and we're fearless and we're strong. You know that and so do I. The difference between us-"

Spencer scoffs. "As if there's only one."

"The difference between us is that you used your powers for good and I didn't," Alison continues, ignoring her interruption. "Your biggest vice is that giant heart of yours. You love too strongly; you _care_ too much. And me? That was never my issue. You were a force to be reckoned with and that's why we clashed so much. That's why you were never my favorite, but that's why I left you in charge."

"And it's why you're here now?" Spencer wonders.

Alison smirks. "You're the last one on my list. Well, I haven't visited Aria either, but she's married to my _brother_ and that just makes me want to vomit. I haven't heard anything that disgusting since I learned that Emily was with Pigskin… and you were with Creepy Cavanaugh."

"Don't call him that," Spencer sneers. "Don't call either of them those things, Ali."

"I'm sorry," Alison tells her but Spencer still can't tell a lie from the truth with her. "Old habits, you know? Things are going well, though? He seems like he makes quite the husband."

"He does," Spencer finds herself smiling despite her previous anger. "He's perfect. Everything's perfect."

"I'm envious," Alison admits. "I think I've always been envious of you. When I left, you girls made names for yourselves and you all fell in love and that made you different people. I wish I had that. You guys really came into your own and you didn't even need me to do it."

"No, we didn't," Spencer agrees. "But you're the one that brought us together."

Alison smiles and a buzzer goes off in the adjoining room. Spencer says, "Stay here. I'll be right back."

But never the one to be told what to do, Alison sets off throughout the house the moment Spencer's left her alone. She steps over Grace's toys in the living room and marvels at the cozy-looking furniture. She notes that dishes are still sitting in the sink even though the dishwasher is whirling away. Climbing the stairs, Alison explores the upper level of their home, stopping in the hallway to admire the framed photographs of the happy family she's imposing on. There are photos of Toby and Spencer in various stages of their relationship and several of Grace from birth to now. Alison finds herself smiling; this is what real love looks like. She's not sure she's ever truly experienced it.

From down the hall, there's a hushed, whispering voice and Alison creeps towards it. The room at the end of the hall is Grace's; she can tell most obviously by the crib but also the adornments on the door and the decals spelling out the baby's name on the wall. Toby's cradling his daughter in his arms, a blanket draped over her, as he rocks her slowly in a beautifully crafted rocking chair that Alison wonders if he made himself. Grace is sound asleep, a thumb in her mouth, and her hair still damp from the bath she hadn't wanted earlier. Alison comes to stand in the doorway to better hear whatever Toby's saying to his little girl.

"_When the evening shadows and the stars appear,_" He murmurs, rocking ever so gently. "_And there's no one there to dry your tears. I could hold you for a million years. To make you feel my love_."

"Bob Dylan?" Alison comments. "Really? That's what you're going with?"

Toby shushes her, standing carefully and making his way towards the crib. "She likes it."

"But a love song?" Alison teases. "That's kind of creepy, don't you think?"

Toby shakes his head and turns off the light, exiting the room and shutting the door behind him. There are footsteps on the stairs and Spencer's in the hallway in minutes. "I thought I told you to stay put?"

"Spencer, you've never told me what to do a day in your life. You certainly aren't going to start now," Alison says. "It's about time I head out, anyway. Give Grace my best and maybe we'll meet again someday."

"Why are you acting like we'll never see you again?" Spencer probes, watching the blonde scale the stairs. "It's macabre."

"It's not macabre," Alison smiles, tossing her iconic blonde hair over her shoulders. "It's immortality, my darling."

Spencer groans. "You did not just say that."

Alison laughs and says, "The moment called for it. Goodbye, Spencer, Toby."

They follow her downstairs and lock the door behind her. Toby's about to ask a thousand questions, but Spencer interrupts with, "Well I don't know about you, but I need a drink."

She uncorks a bottle of Riesling and produces two wine glasses even though Toby hasn't said whether or not he'll be joining her. Pouring them each a glass anyway, Spencer hands one to her husband and sips the other while retreating to the couch in the living room. Toby follows suit but he doesn't even have to ask. Spencer opens with, "I don't know why I'm still under the naïve impression that one day I'm going to get an apology from her."

"What did she say to you?" He implores gently and Spencer heaves a sigh.

"Nothing I didn't already know before," Spencer replies. "She didn't explain why she isn't keeping in touch and she's just going to continue traveling the world and making drop-in visits that disrupt our lives."

"Does that bother you?" Toby wonders. "That she's not keeping in touch? I always thought you didn't want her to."

"We were really good friends, once," Spencer says. "I guess part of me has always just assumed that we could put the past behind us one day. I don't know why."

"No, it makes sense," Toby disagrees. "She was one of your best friends. I get it."

"Yeah, when she decided it was convenient for her," She comments bitterly. "Before everything happened, she used to talk about herself like she was already gone. She told me that I needed to carry on, to take her place, when she was gone and I always assumed that meant with the girls. I didn't really think it was ever going to happen; Alison, in case you weren't aware, has a proclivity for the dramatics. It caught me by surprise."

Toby toys with the ends of her hair, nodding, "It caught everyone by surprise."

"But I did what she asked me to. She was always the leader and when she was gone, I guess I sort of adopted that role," Spencer admits. "But I wasn't the dictator she was and the girls and I… We were closer than ever. But when Ali came back… I don't think she was pleased with what I did to her minions. She expected them to fall at her feet again but they didn't; _we_ didn't. We were stronger than her by then and… We didn't let her push us around anymore."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Toby says and Spencer frowns.

"To Ali, it was," She goes on. "I never let her control me, not even before. It's why she treated me the way she did; it's why I was never her first pick but… When she came back, I honestly think she thought I'd turned the girls against her; that I'd somehow morphed them into versions of myself. I don't think that I did; honestly, I don't. Emily and Hanna and Aria… They'd really come into their own but I wouldn't attribute that to me. It's just that… That's the thing about Ali. She always made you feel so important but at the same time… She made you realize the worst things about yourself and she could cut you down with just a look just so you always knew she was in control. And when she came back, I always felt like she regretted leaving me in charge; that somehow, I'd fucked up _immensely_ and she thought that I was a failure."

Tears are burning at her eyes now and she blinks them away. Toby gently removes the wine glass from her hand and takes both her hands into his own. "Spencer, look at me."

She hesitates a moment, likely wanting to bury the raw emotion as she is accustomed to doing, but eventually she obliges. "Toby, it's fine."

"It's not. It's far from fine," He says sincerely. "Alison is manipulative and vindictive and cunning. She knows exactly which buttons to push with you and she knows exactly how to destroy you. But that doesn't mean that she has. You stepped up and you helped your friends through their rough times when you were still going through hell yourself. That's _huge_; that's everything. It takes a special kind of person to be able to do that and Alison knew that; that is why she left you in charge because she knew you could handle it. And whether she likes it or not, you were there for those girls in ways that she never could be. You were a better leader than she could ever hope to be and you know why?"

"Because you're brave and you're intelligent and you're loyal and you're kind," Toby lists, squeezing her hands a bit. "You're caring and you're loving and you're fiercely dedicated. Alison may have some of these qualities but she doesn't have them all; not like you do. She made the right choice, Spence, and fuck her if she can't see that."

Spencer smirks and Toby chuckles a bit, asking, "What?"

"Nothing," She grins. "You're kind of sexy when you're mad."

"Oh really?" Toby raises his eyebrows, leaning in for a kiss. "Then I'm _furious_."

Later, Spencer decides she doesn't care what Alison thinks. She has someone who will always believe in her and that's truly all that matters.


	8. come along and sing a song

**Hello friends! I'm sure you saw the title of this chapter and you were like o.O Trust me, there's a reason. If there's one thing you should know about me besides the fact that I get way too involved in TV, it's that I'm fairly obsessed with Disney. In fact, I'm so obsessed, that come August 4th I will be working in Disney World in Florida on the Disney College Program. Super excited and super honored and thus, I needed to outlet some Disney here. :P**

**The chapter title comes from the "Mickey Mouse Club March." Anyone who had a Disney-filled childhood like I did should know that. Please enjoy and since this one's fairly short, I'll most likely update again at some point this afternoon. Thanks for your feedback! Love y'all.  
**

* * *

come along and sing a song and join the jamboree

"_Mickey's gone_."

Of all the things Toby might have expected his wife to say when he'd answered the phone, this had not been one of them. "What are you talking about?"

"_Mickey, you know, the mouse? Yellow shoes, annoying voice, mind-numbingly catchy theme song?_"

"I know who he is," Toby rolls his eyes, checking his rearview mirror and switching lanes. "What do you mean he's gone?"

"_I'm trying to put Grace to sleep and she has Minnie but no Mickey. I've literally torn the house apart and I can't find him._"

"Spencer," Toby says. "I'm a half hour away."

"_I know! I know but you were with her all day so I thought maybe you could point me in the right direction._"

Grace's Mickey Mouse obsession had started around Christmas when Peter and Veronica had bought their granddaughter Mickey and Minnie stuffed animals. To say she had taken to them would be the understatement of the century. Mickey and Minnie go _everywhere_ with Grace; they sit beside her at the dinner table, they're constantly being force fed plastic food in her play kitchen and they're always tucked in bed with her at night. In January, Grace's second birthday party had been Mickey Mouse themed and when she'd seen the cake shaped just like Mickey's head, she'd been so overjoyed she'd bounced nearly out of her seat. Hanna had mistakenly bought Grace a Minnie Mouse dress and now, she wants to wear it everyday.

Today had been a snowy and cold Friday in March. Toby had spent his day off with Grace while Spencer was at work and then the three of them had attended McKenzie's second birthday party in the evening. Now, it's pushing nine o'clock and Toby's on his way to Philadelphia for a weekend job he now regrets signing up for. He knows they could always use the extra money and that's most of the reason why he's doing it, but it had been a long, exhausting day and Philly is over an hour away. To say he isn't looking forward to the drive would be hitting the nail right on the head. He wracks his brain trying to think of what he did with Grace that day to be somewhat of a help to Spencer.

"I fed her breakfast and then I got her dressed."

"_Toby, I'm not kidding when I say I've torn the house apart. I would've noticed if Mickey was in the kitchen or her room._"

"Okay, um… I did some laundry," He says next as the gas light on his dashboard flicks on. "Maybe he got mixed up in some clothes."

"_I'll check. I mean, she's freaking out. She will not go to sleep without both of them. Mickey Mouse is going to be the death of me_."

Toby smirks and scans the edges of the thruway for a rest stop. He's got thirty miles until his tank's empty; he's just hoping there will be a gas station before then. "Any luck?"

"_No sign of him. What else did you do?_"

"We played in her room most of the day," Toby says. "She ate lunch, took a nap… Oh, when she woke up she wanted to play outside. Maybe he's in the garage; that's where I got her dressed."

"_Alright, I'll look there next. I hope you got pictures, by the way._"

"Of course," He chuckles, successfully locating a gas station and pulling off the exit. "She had a great time."

"_He's not here, either. This is ridiculous. I'm getting a GPS tracker installed in this mouse._"

"I don't know what to tell you," Toby states, switching off the engine and stepping out of the car. "After we came inside, I made her a snack and then you came home and we went to the party."

"_In your truck_."

"Yes, in my truck," Toby repeats. "What's your point?"

"_I'm saying Mickey's probably with you._"

"That's not possible," He disagrees, using his free hand to pump gas into his vehicle. "She didn't even bring the mice to the party."

"_Well then where in God's name is he? It's late, she's exhausted and she won't go to sleep until_-"

Anything else she says goes unheard by Toby because as he's peering into the bed of the truck, he can see a flash of yellow tucked beneath the passenger side. When he's finished pumping gas, he opens the passenger door and tugs on the soft yellow material. Out pops Mickey Mouse in all his cheery glory. Toby sighs, "Son of a bitch."

"_You found him?_"

"In the truck," He elaborates. "Like you said."

"_I knew it._"

"I'll turn around and be home in thirty."

"_No, Toby, I'm not going to make you come all the way back just for a stuffed animal. Grace is just going to have to deal with it. Minnie will have to last her until you get home Sunday_."

"Yeah, I hear what you're saying," Toby says, getting in the car and back on the thruway, towards home. "But you and I both know she's as stubborn as you are and Minnie isn't going to be enough for her to sleep."

"_As stubborn as _I _am? Like you're so irresolute!_"

He laughs. "I'll see you soon."

"_Drive carefully, okay? No falling asleep at the wheel_."

"I'll do my best."

He has to blast the radio and open the window a crack, but he doesn't fall asleep. Truthfully, there's not a lot of traffic so the drive isn't as trying as it normally would be. Granted this isn't what he would like to be doing on a Friday night. He can think of plenty of other things that sound much more appealing and every last one of them involves being at home with his girls instead of being out here on the road. He's doing this for them, though, so they can have the life they deserve, so he supposes it's all worth it in the end. By the time he makes it home, it's almost ten o'clock and he tries not to remember that once he's delivered the mouse, he must return to the road, for he has to be onsite bright and early tomorrow morning. Toby doesn't even bother removing his shoes once he's inside- something he's sure Spencer will crucify him for- and ascends the staircase as quickly as he can.

When he reaches his daughter's room, there are overtired tears pouring down her cheeks. But the moment she sees what's tucked beneath her father's arm, she squeals, "My Mickey!"

Spencer turns in his direction from her spot at the edge of Grace's bed and smiles. "You better thank daddy for this, Gracie. He drove all the way back here to get Mickey back to you."

Grace hugs Mickey tight but hugs Toby even tighter. "Thank you daddy."

He presses a kiss to the crown of her head and says, "You're welcome, monkey. Now get some sleep, okay? You look like you need it."

"Don't we all," Spencer teases and they tuck their little princess into bed together. She's asleep within seconds.

Downstairs, Toby shrugs into his coat again as Spencer asks, "You sure this is really worth it? You're going to be so dead tomorrow you might not even be that much of a help."

"It's worth it," He assures her and bends to kiss her goodbye. "Plus, Super Dad never sleeps. So long as there are tears to be stopped and Mickeys to be returned, I shall not rest."

"Oh my god," Spencer rolls her eyes but despite this, kisses him again. "You must be delirious. You're not usually that much of a dork."

"What can I say," He grins. "You crazy girls must bring it out of me."

When he's on the road again, he realizes he wishes he truly were a superhero because it's going to take superhuman strength to remove him from bed tomorrow morning.


	9. i know it gets so hard sometimes

**Happy rainy Tuesday. Ugh it's so dreary out that the very last thing I want to do is get off this couch and go to class. April showers bring May flowers, I guess. I'm just hoping this BS will let up eventually. So it seems like everyone really liked the last chapter and that surprises me because I thought it was one of the weakest? I don't know. I am my toughest critic. So basically THANK YOU for being fabulous and wonderful and still reading this. I love you guys- you rock, don't ever change (cookies for the person who can name this reference).**

**Today's chapter title comes from the song "Be Calm" by Fun. I'm kind of going through a Fun. phase right now, if you couldn't tell. :P Thank you, thank you, and enjoy!  
**

* * *

i know it gets so hard sometimes, be calm

One night in early July, the humidity breaks, the sun dips lazily into the horizon and the sky meshes into a gorgeous pink and purple swirl. Toby and Spencer decide to take two-and-a-half-year-old Grace to the park to soak up the summer sky and spend the rest of the night pushing her on the swings, chasing her down the slides, and riding the merry-go-round until they realize, a bit nauseously, that they're far too old for that. They've launched into a rousing game of hide-and-seek just as a familiar couple comes strolling down the park's path. Toby stops dead, even before Grace shouts out, "Found you, daddy!" When Spencer follows his line of vision, her heart plummets to the pit of her stomach.

It's Toby's father and, on his arm, his stepmother. Daniel Cavanaugh does a double take and asks, "What are you doing here?"

"We live here," Toby states simply. "Remember? I called and told you we moved back."

"That's right, that's right," Daniel nods. "Well, it's great to see you. Both of you. And wow, little Grace has certainly grown, huh?"

"It has been a year and a half," Toby says bitterly. "You know, since you last saw her."

In an effort to ease the tension, Toby's stepmother, Heather, proposes, "Oh you three must come to our Fourth of July barbeque tomorrow! It starts at noon!"

Daniel shoots his wife a pointed look that she ignores. Toby's just about decline when Spencer says, "We'd love to. We'll be there. Is there anything we can bring?"

"I think we're all set on drinks and entrees," Heather tells her. "But if you'd like to bring a side, maybe a pasta salad or some fruit, that would be lovely!"

"Great, will do," Spencer smiles tightly. "Count us in."

On the way home, Toby's eerily silent and Spencer can't stand the pressure. She says, "I'll make my Nana's pasta salad. Everyone loves that."

He shoots her a sidelong glance. "You really want to go?"

"Toby, they invited us," Spencer tells him. "What were we supposed to do, say no?"

"Yes," Toby says as though it's the most optimal choice. "They don't want us there, Spence. The only reason they asked is because we conveniently ran into them."

"I know," She agrees. "But I think we should go anyway. It'll be good for you. Maybe you and your dad will finally bury the hatchet."

"I don't think there is a hole deep enough," Toby says bitterly. "For a hatchet that big."

She lets it go. The next morning, Spencer expertly crafts a pasta salad big enough for an army and dresses Grace in perfect red, white and blue attire for the day. She's sure they'll only be at the Cavanaughs' barbeque for a handful of hours; she _highly_ doubts Toby will want to stay longer than he has to. Plus, she did promise the girls that they would meet up later that evening to watch the fireworks from Town Square. On the way to his parents' house, Toby is just as silent as he was the evening prior and Spencer reminds him that they need only make a polite appearance and then they can go. He nods but says nothing. She knows his family makes him incredibly tense and on edge and for a good reason, but she truly hopes that one day, they'll let bygones be bygones.

Spencer had never pictured the Cavanaughs as being particularly social, but there is a good size crowd at Toby's childhood home the moment they arrive. She can spot Jenna on the far side of the backyard once they've exited their vehicle and, if she's not mistaken, the Vanderwaals. Mona's nowhere to be seen, but her parents are there and it's just ironic, really, that they'd formed an alliance with Toby's parents, since their children absolutely loathe one another. Otherwise, Spencer's not sure she recognizes anyone else. Smoke is billowing from the grill on the deck and Daniel is flipping burgers and hot dogs, laughing at something a friend of his has just said. Out of nowhere, Heather appears and greets them so cheerfully Spencer wonders if she's being genuine.

"I'm so glad you could make it!" She announces. "Mingle, mingle, make yourselves at home."

"Thank you," Spencer says, one arm occupied by the bowl of pasta salad and the other by her daughter.

"Oh, dear, let me take that for you," Heather says, grasping the bowl and motioning towards the house. "Thank you for contributing. Let's go find a place for this in the kitchen, shall we?"

Spencer nods and murmurs to Toby just before she leaves, "Use this opportunity to talk to your father."

He's brooding like a teenager and Spencer's so focused on that she almost misses Heather's question. "So you're adjusting to Rosewood well, then?"

"I mean, I guess so," She replies. "It helps that we lived here before, so not _too_ much adjusting."

"Right, silly me," Heather chuckles, snatching a freeze pop from the cooler and handing it to Grace. "And you're a school counselor, right?"

"Say thank you, Gracie," Spencer tells her daughter, who offers a hurried thanks before shoving the flavored ice in her mouth. "Sort of. I'm a behavioral psychologist, but a lot of my patients are kids, so I guess that's similar."

Heather nods along and spouts off a bunch of different questions that Spencer can't help but think if she and Daniel had been more present in their lives, she would have already known. But it's not her fight; if she's learned anything since her relationship with Toby first began, it's that not only does she need to learn when to let things slide, but also when to interfere and when to keep silent. It isn't something that's come easy, especially with a tongue that works faster than her brain. But she's more of a help to Toby when she's listening to him instead of fighting his battles for him. So, she takes Heather's questions in stride and hopes for the best.

Meanwhile, Toby waits for his father's coworker to leave him be before approaching. He decides to open politely in hopes that it will get him farther. "It's a great party, dad. Thanks for inviting us."

"Of course, son, of course," Daniel says, adding some barbeque sauce to a rack of ribs. "You know you're always welcome here."

His father has never made this abundantly clear and for a moment, Toby isn't sure what to say next. "Are we? All three of us?"

The question catches Daniel off-guard but he agrees, "Of course. You're family. All three of you."

"Really?" Toby implores. "Family keeps in touch, dad. You know the phone works both ways, right?"

"Things around here have been crazy," Daniel says and Toby rolls his eyes. He's heard it all before. "And I know how busy you've been, moving all about the country. I didn't know if I would reach you."

"You didn't try," Toby counters. "You've always been far more interested in Heather and Jenna than you have been in the person who's actually related to you."

"Damn it, Toby, what do you want from me, huh?" Daniel groans. "You want me to get on my hands and knees and apologize? Beg forgiveness?"

"No," Toby frowns. "I want you to accept my choices. I want you to appreciate the woman I'm spending the rest of my life with. I want you to _want_ to be a part of Grace's life. She deserves to know both sets of her grandparents."

"Toby, I'm sure by now you've realized parents make mistakes. I've done it; I've made plenty," Daniel says. "But so have you."

Toby asks, "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that one day, you're going to realize I've been right all along," Daniel explicates. "About your lack of ambition and that hobby you call a career. About the people you associate with. About Spencer. You'll see; you'll come to your senses. And when you do, Toby, my door's always open."

"How dare you," Toby snarls. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"I'm willing to keep up the niceties until then," Daniel says, steamrolling over his son's anger. "But you should know that she wouldn't have wanted you to live your life like this."

"Mom would have wanted me to be happy," Toby argues back. "Which is more than I can say for you."

Without another reply, Toby turns hotly and steps into the house. He finds Spencer and Grace talking happily with some strangers and says shortly, "We're leaving."

"Oh, okay," Spencer replies quickly, turning her attention quickly back to those she was talking to previously. "It was very nice meeting you."

Toby's already halfway to the car. Grace wriggles excitedly from the backseat, asking about the fireworks, but Spencer's attention is on the way Toby's white-knuckling the steering wheel. When they arrive home, Spencer's about to ask the million-dollar question, but Toby can sense this and pulls the cover off of his beloved motorcycle instead. "I'm going to ride around for a while."

"Toby," Spencer pleads. "Just wait a second-"

"No, I really don't want to talk about it," He avoids her gaze and tugs on his helmet instead. "I don't want to be around you two when I'm this angry. I don't want to say something I'll regret."

Spencer pauses at the implication and then nods. "Okay. Okay, go."

And so he does. Spencer retreats inside, where Grace is bouncing off the walls because she's had nothing but sugar all day. But she crashes hard and has a good two-hour nap before dinner. When the sky grows dark and stars begin to dot the inky blanket above, Spencer pulls a sweatshirt over her daughter and the two head to Town Square. She meets up with Emily, Hanna, Aria and their respective families and, of course, has to wield the "Where's Toby?" question she was dreading. Miraculously, none of the children have a meltdown over the noise, but instead are far too mesmerized by the exploding colors in the sky. Grace falls asleep on the way home and Spencer tucks her into bed feeling incredibly lonely.

It's after midnight when he finally crawls into bed with her. Spencer tries her hardest to keep her irritation at bay. "You get it all out of your system?"

"My mom would have loved you."

It's hard to stay at mad at him when he says things like that. Spencer turns to face him and the emotion in his eyes sends fractures across her heart. "What?"

"My mom would've loved you," Toby repeats, trailing a finger down her cheek. "She would've loved Grace. She would've been so happy for us… and she would have never let my father get away with this bullshit."

Spencer swallows past the lump in her throat. "Toby, I'm really sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Yes, I do," She disagrees. "I'm the one that made you go to that party. If we hadn't gone…"

"If we hadn't gone, I wouldn't have gotten the truth. I had always expected my father disapproved of my lifestyle, but now…" He trails off slightly, his voice growing quieter. "Well now I just know."

"I don't understand why he can't just be happy for you," Spencer shakes her head. "He loves you; I _know_ he does. I can see it."

"Yeah, well," Toby frowns. "That's the funny thing about love. It gives you unrealistically high expectations for the person you love. And when they can't meet those standards, they've failed."

Spencer reaches forward and curls a hand around Toby's neck, bringing him as close as she can. Her lips kiss the shell of his ear as she whispers, "You are the greatest thing that your father has ever done and you are the best thing to ever happen to me. I love you more than you'll ever know."

He responds by curling his arms around her and kissing her neck. "I love you, too. More than anything."

People always say that you can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family. That's not really true, though, is it? In some cases, your friends become your family. And when you've found the love of your life, when you've married and created new life, you've become a family through choice. If you're lucky, it's the best choice you'll ever make.


	10. i still wake up, i still see your ghost

**Hey there! So the rain stopped, but it's like 28 degrees outside when Monday was 80. Go figure. Central New York, man. I'm telling you. You don't like the weather? Wait an hour. (Name that reference and you can get the cookies you didn't get yesterday). No one named my reference from the last chapter- it was Lizzie McGuire haha. Anyway, I quote TV on the regular, so that's that.**

**This chapter title comes from "Some Nights" by Fun. That song's pretty mainstream, so you might have already guessed that. Thank you all so, so incredibly much for continuing to read and for reviewing, favoriting, following, all that jazz. It really means a lot. I don't know if you understand how much. So thank you, thank you, and hopefully you'll enjoy this one! It stemmed from my frustration with their lack of discussion of the horror that was 3B on the show. Like... I feel like they should talk about it, you know? Whatever. Obviously they've talked about it in my universe- can't be married without settling some demons, after all- but every now and then, it's going to come up again. ;)  
**

* * *

but i still wake up, i still see your ghost

A shrill scream pierces into the night, followed by a fresh set of hysterical sobs. Toby and Spencer jolt awake, a little disoriented, a bit lost, before realizing the source of the behavior and sighing impatiently. Toby rubs his eyes a little, placing a warm hand on Spencer's shoulder and saying, "I've got her this time."

Grace's third birthday had passed just weeks ago and had brought many new facets to her personality, but the one thing her parents could do without is her new nighttime companion. She had been having excruciatingly vivid nightmares for a week or so now and would wake up shrieking and nearly inconsolable. It was hard to get her to want to go to bed at night knowing what lurked in the shadows and waited to prey upon her tiny mind. It was even harder, they'd come to realize, to tell Grace that these things she's seeing aren't real and that they're only her imagination playing cruel tricks upon her.

Toby pads softly but purposefully to her bedroom and quietly creaks the door open. His heart constricts at the sight of his daughter sitting up in bed, tears leaking from her eyes, Mickey and Minnie clutched to her heart in a death grip. Her hair's disheveled, her blankets are on the floor and even from his place at the door, Toby can see goose bumps have arisen on her arms. He crosses the room and kneels beside her bed and Grace responds by dropping Mickey and Minnie and wrapping her arms around her father's neck instead. She's still crying; Toby can feel the tears drop onto his t-shirt. He rubs her back a little, asking, "Bad dream, Gracie?"

"The ghost was chasing me," She whimpers. "He had big teeth and scary eyes. I was running and hiding and he was right there."

"Where, baby?" Toby implores. "Right where?"

Grace says nothing but points in the direction of her closet. Toby shakes his head. "No way. Nobody scares my Grace and gets away with it."

He replaces her gently on the bed and crosses the room towards the closet. Grace shrieks, "Be careful daddy! The ghost is in there!"

Toby heeds her warning and searches every inch of the closet until she's satisfied. "No ghost, Gracie. Looks like it's going to be okay."

Grace is immediately upset again. "But daddy, he'll come back!"

"Do you want to come lie down in our bed?" Toby asks, smoothing her hair a little. "Mommy and I will keep you safe."

Grace nods fiercely and Toby scoops her back into his arms, Mickey and Minnie in tow, of course. Spencer's not shocked by the new company; she'd done the same earlier in the week. Toby lowers her onto the bed and Grace immediately crawls into her mother's open arms, curling into her side and sticking her thumb in her mouth. Her heartbeat slows, her breathing evens out and she's asleep within minutes. Spencer presses her lips to her daughter's forehead and Toby completes the circle, running a hand through her hair. She looks far too peaceful and innocent when she's asleep to be torn apart the way she is by her nightmares.

"What was it this time?" Spencer asks, her eyes not leaving her daughter's angelic face.

"An evil-eyed, saw-toothed ghost chasing her and hiding in her closet," Toby says quietly. "She's got quite an imagination."

Spencer nods but there's more lingering underneath the surface, Toby can tell. He wonders, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just hate seeing her like this," Spencer tells him but Toby eyes her pointedly.

"Spencer."

She sighs. "I don't want her to end up like me."

He dons a mask of confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I had terrible nightmares as a kid; ones that sound alarmingly similar to the ones that are plaguing Grace," Spencer explains. "And I had them as a teenager too and… We all know how I turned out."

"You didn't turn out so bad," He shakes his head, but it's clear that her projected fear is a legitimate one.

"Toby, I'm serious," She insists. "I was tormented for years. I had a mental breakdown and was institutionalized. And don't even get me started on the pill addiction and the rehab stay I have under my belt. I just… I just don't want Grace to ever have to go through any of that."

"And you think that a handful of nightmares means she's going to turn out exactly like you?"

"No," Spencer murmurs. "But that's certainly how it started out for me."

"I can't predict the future, so I can't promise you that those things won't happen to her," Toby starts out slowly. "But what I can do is remind you of the certain conditions you were facing that led to your transgressions. Your parents put enormous pressure on you to be the best at everything you did and were disappointed when you failed, as if they forgot you were human. I don't plan on _ever_ being that harsh with Grace, do you?"

"Of course not," Spencer's quick to agree. "My biggest fear is turning into them. I would never want that."

"Okay then. Pill addiction solved." Toby says. "Your best friend went missing and was murdered but not really. You and your friends were at the center of the investigation and were coerced into believing you were guiltier than you'd realized. Lightning never strikes the same place twice; I don't see Grace having to go through this, but if she does?"

"If she does, I would want her to tell me everything," Spencer replies. "Which, if she's anything like me, she won't. But I'd do everything I could to help her. I would get her the _hell_ out of Rosewood."

"Alright, that settles the tormenting," Toby states. "Anyone can see how these things combined might make you a bit mentally unstable. You were forced to deal with very complex, very mature things at such a young age and… I certainly didn't help matters. So if… If Grace ever got her heart broken the way I know I broke yours, I would beat the ever-loving shit out of him like your father probably should have done to me."

Spencer frowns. "You were not the reason I went to Radley."

"Straw that broke the camel's back?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess you could say that," Spencer says, so quietly Toby has to strain to hear her. "Let's be real, I was headed there no matter what. I couldn't take it anymore; all the pressure, all the lies, all the suffering… I felt like you were the only thing that was keeping me grounded; that as long as I had you, I would hopefully and eventually be okay. But then when I found out… and then that night in the woods…"

She doesn't have to finish. It might have been almost ten years ago, but it still makes Spencer's heart constrict and bile rise in her throat. It still makes Toby hate himself with an unyielding passion. "I lost my grip on reality. I don't blame you for doing what you did. But it still hurt, you know?"

"I do," Toby disagrees. "I blame myself. I know you forgave me, but I never will. I knew it would destroy us, but I thought as long as you were safe… I never knew Mona would go that far. I underestimated you and I sent you… _God_."

"Stop," Spencer shakes her head. "Just stop. I don't want you to hate yourself over this. You didn't send me anywhere I wasn't already going."

He hesitates but nods slowly and Spencer chuckles a bit despite the situation. "God, why are we talking about this? This was supposed to be about Grace."

"It is," Toby insists. "The truth is, kids have nightmares, Spence. And despite your childhood or even mine, I'm sure she's going to be just fine."

They glance down at their sleeping little girl and hope that Toby's words will ring true. They do; the nightmares eventually pass and Grace is happier than ever.


	11. take a left at your intestine

**Hello all. I'm going to stop playing the "name that reference" game haha. Yesterday's answer was Prison Break. Amazing, life-ruining show that you should all watch. Seriously. If you think shipping Spoby gets bad sometimes, you don't even know the half of it. Anyway, rant over. So let's get to it, yeah? I'm glad you all agree that the 3B stuff should be settled on the show. I just feel like glossing over it is only going to set them up for even more issues along the way...**

**Today's chapter title comes from the "Magic School Bus" theme song. Ahh, the nineties. Picture it- you're in first, maybe second grade and it's been a super boring day, but then your teacher strolls in with one of those TVs on a cart and suddenly you know- we're watching _The Magic School Bus! _All of a sudden, your day just got so much better. Am I right? Or was I the only one that experienced this in childhood? If you want to relive it, it's on Netflix. ;)  
**

* * *

take a left at your intestine, take your second right past Mars

In May, Spencer joins Emily and Hanna in the search for the right preschool for their children, with Aria's daughter being a year shy of preschool just yet. Emily struggles with the decision to separate the twins into different classrooms when they do decide upon a school and sign up for an orientation session. She decides it'll be better for their development if she separates them, so Brynn ends up in a class with McKenzie and Bennett with Grace. Orientation is just an informal way for the parents to meet the preschool teachers and for the kids to get used to the school setting. Grace is wary only at first; she warms up quickly and when it's time to leave, she expresses deep interest in coming back.

Spencer had taken the day off in order to attend orientation with her daughter. She and the others take their children to an early lunch afterwards and then home for a nap and for Spencer to get some actual work done. Just because she had taken the day off doesn't mean she's free of all her responsibilities; the house badly needs a cleaning and she has case files to type up and organize and calls to return. Once Grace is fast asleep, Spencer's honestly not even sure where to start. She cleans the bathrooms and mops the kitchen, dusts, runs the dishwasher and finally gets around to the pile of hand-wash-only clothes she's been avoiding. She's ironing a blazer when Grace, bleary-eyed and refreshed, comes downstairs.

"Mommy," She calls and even though she says it about a dozen times a day, it still makes Spencer's heart flutter that this beautiful little girl is all hers. "Mommy, where are you?"

"In the laundry room, baby," Spencer informs her and when Grace appears at the doorway, she adds, "Hi Gracie! How was your nap?"

"Good," She says shortly. "I wanna play Play-Doh."

Play-Doh is the bane of all parents' existence. Spencer frowns. "Are you sure? You can't play in your kitchen or with the dollhouse or-"

"No," Grace whines. "Play-Doh!"

"I just cleaned the kitchen, honey," Spencer counters. "Play-Doh is so messy. Why we don't bring out the Lincoln Logs? You want to build a cabin?"

"No!" She stomps her foot. She's always at her crankiest post-nap. It's something her parents have never been able to figure out. "I wanna play with Play-Doh!"

"Wait, I have a better idea," Spencer says. "I'll get the LEGOs, okay? You can build me a huge tower. You love building towers, right?"

Grace hesitates but nods and Spencer grins, triumphant. Somehow, arguing with her daughter has become exhausting lately and Spencer wonders if this is a quality Grace had inherited from herself. She knows her own parents absolutely loathed bantering with her for these same reasons. She was stubborn; Grace is stubborn. It's true what they say about parenting; you recognize awful qualities about yourself only when you see them in your child. When Spencer's finished ironing, she hangs the clothing with precision and situates Grace with the jumbo box of LEGOs she'd gotten for her birthday. When she seems content, Spencer retreats to the home office.

She has a number of things to do. Bills must be paid, checks must be written and she has a stack of case files that must be typed by tomorrow morning. She gets to work; her checkbook is as accurate and balanced as it always has been. At least her father managed to teach her something useful. Slapping some stamps on the corners of all the envelopes she's just addressed, Spencer makes a neat stack in the corner of the desk to remind herself they must travel to the mailbox. Once she's started her actual work, though, she knows there is no room for distraction. The files on her patients must be typed while she's in sound mind and body. And she is, until she hears a rush of crashing LEGOs from the living room and Grace's hysterical giggles.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks, flying into the living room.

"I made a chair," Grace giggles, her face full of joy. "But it wasn't big enough and it broke."

"Gracie, you can't make a chair out of LEGOs," Spencer chides. "They're only plastic. They'll snap."

"They didn't," Grace shakes her head. "Now can I play Play-Doh?"

Spencer sighs and gives in. "Fine. You can, but you need to put all of these back in the box first."

"Okay!"

When the box is full to the brim, Spencer tucks it back on the shelf and retrieves the yellow plastic containers that will likely undo all the progress she'd made in the kitchen. Grace wields the pizza cutters, the scissors and the plastic shapes like a pro, creating all kinds of concoctions with them and running in between the kitchen and the office to show her mother. Spencer, distracted, always tells her they look great even if she barely looks up. If Grace notices, she doesn't let on, but it makes Spencer feel terrible. She hates when she has to divide her attention between her job and her daughter and she wishes there was a way for her to better balance the two.

Finally finished with her casework, Spencer enters the kitchen to find that a Play-Doh bomb has gone off. Groaning, she gets to work picking it off the floor and out of the chair cushions as Grace mushes it back into the containers. Spencer's cell phone rings shrilly and it takes a moment for her to remove all the Play-Doh from her fingers before she can answer. "Hello?"

It's a client's parent; Spencer has been working with this woman's son for over a year now and he's severely autistic. Now, she's frantic on the other end, rapidly speaking about how her son had gone into an episode and she couldn't calm him down. "What was the cause of the outburst?"

"Mommy," Grace pleads, wiping her hands on her shirt.

"Have you removed anything that might be too much of a sensory overload?" Spencer asks. "The radio, the television, anything brightly colored or extremely textured?"

"Mommy," Grace whines again, tugging on her mother's shirt.

But Spencer's attention is everywhere else. The phone's cradled between her ear and her shoulder and she's still picking up Play-Doh from inopportune places. "I'm assuming you've moved anything that could be of potential harm to him out of the way. Have you tried massage or pressure points?"

"Mommy-"

"What about his clothes? Are they binding or too loose?"

"Mommy!"

"I would use calming voices, turn off the lights and just make sure he realizes he's in a safe space so when he comes back-"

"_Mommy!_" Grace shrieks and this finally wins Spencer's attention.

"I'm sorry, can you give me a moment?" She pulls the phone away from her ear and asks, "Grace, what is wrong?"

She crosses her arms and asks, "I want to watch a movie."

"You can use my laptop. It's my room," Spencer sighs. "Give me a minute and I'll help you. This phone call is _really_ important."

"I can do it by myself," Grace tells her and bounds up the stairs.

It isn't until after her patient is calm again and Spencer's off the phone that she truly comprehends what she's just told her daughter. _This phone call is really important_. How many times had she been told that very same thing as a child? _Spencer, what do you need? This is important. Spencer, this is far too important to ignore right now. You'll have to wait_. For everything in the world, Spencer does not want to become _that_ parent; she does not want to become _her_ parents. It hadn't bothered Grace and it had been a one-time deal, but Spencer still feels a burgeoning pit of regret in her stomach. She has a mountain of work that still needs to be completed, but it can wait. It will always wait; Grace will always come first. She makes a vow to herself right then and there that she will never utter those words to her daughter again.

Spencer brings a clementine and a glass of water upstairs and finds her daughter curled up in the middle of the king-size bed. She's engrossed in something Spencer can't make out from here, so she asks, "Hi baby. What are you watching?"

"Netflix," Grace says simply and then elaborates, "_The Magic School Bus_."

"_Magic School Bus_?" Spencer questions and it truly takes her back. The nineties were an exceptional time for quality children's programming. "That's a great show."

"I know," Grace agrees and turns the screen a little when her mother sits down beside her, so they both can see. "I like Arnold. He's so funny."

"Arnold? He's such a scaredy-cat," Spencer comments, handing her daughter the snack she'd brought.

"I know, that's why he's funny," Grace tells her. "And Carlos too."

Spencer asks, "What did I miss? What are we learning about today?"

Grace begins peeling the clementine and says, "The body."

"The body?" Her eyebrows raise and she tickles her daughter's belly a bit, receiving a giggle in response. "What about the body?"

"Ralphie's sick," Grace explains and hands half of her clementine to Spencer to share. "So everybody got in the bus and the bus got really small and they went inside Ralphie! And now they're swimming in his blood."

"Swimming in his blood?"

"Yeah, they have to get to his throat," Grace says. "They want to know why he's sick."

"Wow, that's very cool," Spencer chuckles.

"You know what I learned?"

"What did you learn?"

"There's little things that look like donuts in your blood," Grace tells her. "There's red ones and white ones. They're called cells. The white ones make you not sick."

"That is impressive," Spencer grins proudly. "And what do the red ones do?"

"I don't know," Grace shrugs. "Look pretty?"

Her mother laughs wholeheartedly. "That sounds like a good theory, babe."

They spend the rest of the afternoon learning about antibodies, the digestive system, sound waves and outer space. Grace has dozens of new facts to teach Toby when he arrives home and Spencer jokingly tells him she's already training for the decathlon. He teases back that soon, she and Grace will both outsmart him. They clean up for dinner and trade stories about the day; Toby informs them about his two-hour stint in the pouring rain and even though things barely got finished, his boss hadn't let him leave despite the weather. A cold is certainly to follow, Spencer predicts, and even though he insists he's fine, Grace agrees with her mother.

"Daddy, you're gonna get sick and then the white blood cells will have to fight all the bacteria," She says matter-of-factly.

Toby stares at her a moment before asking his wife, "What three-year-old knows the words 'bacteria' and 'white blood cells'?"

"Three-year-olds who watch _The Magic School Bus_," Spencer grins. "That's who."


	12. and just like him she never stops

**I'm going to go ahead and say it- looking at this chapter now, I wish it didn't exist. Blegh, if I had time to write a different one I would, because it's crap. But I have to write a poem for workshop (ugh, don't ask) tomorrow morning so there's no time to replace this crap. I mean I really won't even be offended if you don't read it. This may just be me overreacting... I guess we'll see. :P**

**This chapter title comes from- where else? "The Gambler" by Fun. I just can't quit you, baby.  
**

* * *

and just like him she never stops, never takes the day for granted

June comes to Rosewood and brings an early summer heat with it. The summer months always promise booming business for Toby and to say he has been busy would be putting it lightly. All across town, he's been constructing gazebos, screening in back porches and drawing up designs for outdoor entertainment centers; work that will likely set him back a few months, but will certainly provide him with a tidy profit. Next on his list, however, are Wren and Melissa, who'd wanted a small guesthouse in their backyard for their extended, out of the country family. Toby isn't looking forward to working for them, though; working for family is just asking for trouble.

To top it all off, Grace is with him today. He's never brought her to work with him before; he doesn't have the type of job that's conducive to that activity. But she's insistent upon coming with and since he figures she can likely just play inside her aunt and uncle's house, Toby reluctantly agrees. She is old enough to be self-sufficient to a point and he certainly doesn't plan on letting her anywhere near the power tools. Spencer's more reluctant than he is, preaching that their daughter on a construction site is far too dangerous of a situation. There's not much either of them can do about it, though; they've both got to work and Grace has nowhere else to go.

"Are we at your work now?" Grace asks when Toby stops the car. "This is Aunt Melissa's house."

"I know," Toby smiles, unloading her from her car seat. "Remember how I told you I'm building something for Aunt Melissa? I've got a lot of work to do today."

"And I'm gonna play with Vivian?"

"You're going to play with Vivian, yeah," Toby confirms. "She's probably waiting for you already."

Toby unloads an armful of tools from the truck and slips his free hand into Grace's hand. Most of his coworkers are already here; he can tell Davis got here early from the Aerosmith blasting from the backyard. Shaking his head, he begins to lead Grace to the front door when Hayes interrupts. "Yo, Cavanaugh! Daycare's down the street!"

Toby laughs. "Yeah, well. This is my sister-in-law's house, so…"

Hayes smirks and bends down a bit, grinning at the little girl. "Hi sweetheart. What's your name?"

"Grace Marion Cavanaugh," She recites proudly and Toby chuckles a bit. "What's yours?"

"My name is Graham Hayes," He introduces, shaking her tiny hand. "It's very nice to meet you. Your daddy talks about you a lot."

"Graham?" Grace repeats. "Like the cracker?"

"Grace," Toby shakes his head, scolding, but Hayes only laughs along.

"No, man, she's right," He nods. "Just like the cracker, Grace Face."

She giggles. "Hey, that rhymes!"

Melissa opens the front door, then, Vivian right behind her. "Grace! Come on in, honey. Let's let daddy get to work!"

"I'm gonna go play with Vivian now," Grace announces and side-hugs her father. "Bye daddy. Bye Graham Cracker."

Hayes grins. "See ya, Grace Face."

Toby just shakes his head, a smile on his face, and starts towards the backyard. Hayes calls out, "Oh, whatever you do, steer clear of Johnson. He's in a shitty mood."

"Isn't he always?" Toby comments and Hayes snorts, agreeing.

Toby's on roof duty today, climbing up the ladder and beginning to attach the shingles to the structure they'd crafted for the Kingstons. It's still a weird thing for him to consider; Melissa and Wren seem perfect for each other, but Toby's not blind. He still catches the way Wren's gaze lingers too long on Spencer sometimes and to this day, Wren still calls him 'the carpenter,' as though Toby's defined by his profession. Melissa he'd grown somewhat fond of and he knew that in marrying Spencer he'd be marrying her family too. Wren, however, he couldn't have expected. Wren he really could do without.

He calls Spencer on his lunch break as he always does and assures her Grace is fine. He honestly hasn't seen much of his daughter; he imagines Vivian is keeping her busy with all the latest and greatest toys her parents spoil her with. Anytime Grace hangs out with Vivian, she comes home exhausted from sensory overload. Toby knows everyone has their own parenting style, but he truly doesn't see the benefit in buying a child everything they want. He shakes his head clear of these thoughts once his break is over and heads back to his shingle work. He's working the roof with Hayes, who's nodding along to "Walk This Way," courtesy of the stereo below them. He hasn't seen surly Johnson yet, but he's sure his coworker has given himself the easiest job of the day as he always does.

A little while later, the sliding glass back door opens and Vivian and Grace tumble into the backyard. Melissa's not too far behind, a pitcher of lemonade and a sleeve of plastic cups in hand, advising them not to stray too far. Vivian makes a beeline for the tire swing and demands Grace join her, but Grace instead approaches a man exiting the soon-to-be guesthouse- a man named Johnson. "Hi. Do you work with my daddy?"

Johnson asks, "Which one's your daddy?"

"That one," Grace points at the roof. "In the black shirt."

"Oh Cavanaugh," Johnson clarifies. "Yeah, I work with him. Why?"

"Why aren't you on the roof?" Grace wonders and Johnson frowns.

"Because it's dangerous," He explains. "I've got stuff to do inside."

"But my daddy's on the roof," Grace prods. "What if he gets hurt?"

"He won't."

"But what if he does?" Grace insists and Johnson grows impatient.

"Look kid, it's not safe for you to be here," Johnson retorts. "Run along and play."

Grace crosses her arms, adamant. "Not until you get my daddy off the roof."

Melissa comes over and asks, "Gracie, what's going on?"

"It's dangerous," She tells her aunt. "I want daddy off the roof."

Johnson sighs. "The shingle work is _almost_ done, kid."

Melissa probes, "Will you just humor her?"

"But he's almost done!"

"Then you finish," Melissa insists. "Please."

Johnson scrubs an irritated hand over his face and turns to shout, "Cavanaugh! Hayes! You're off roof duty. We're swapping."

When Toby climbs down the ladder, he's immediately alarmed and asks Melissa, "What's going on?"

Melissa shrugs, nodding towards Grace. "Don't ask me."

"Grace," Toby wonders. "Is everything okay?"

"No," Grace shakes her head. "He's mean."

"Did he say something to you?"

"No," She repeats. "He wanted you on the roof 'cause it's dangerous. He's mean. He needs a time-out."

Toby stares at her a moment and then chuckles. "A time-out?"

"Yeah," Grace nods matter-of-factly. "Now he has to do it by himself."

Melissa smirks and says, "She's already employing a system of punishment and reward? That's the Hastings blood talking."

Grace grins adorably at her father and Toby can do nothing but smile. "If I didn't think you were your mother before, I sure do now."


	13. what's a boy to do

**Hello all! It's Friday finally. Good Friday, in fact; the best of all the Fridays (lame joke, sorry). I actually have literally nothing to say today. Besides, of course, thank you as always for your feedback! It literally never gets old. I mean, I keep waiting for you guys to lose interest in this story, but you haven't yet! Thank you, you're all the best and I wouldn't be here without you guys.**

**The chapter title is from "All The Pretty Girls" by Fun. Legit one of my favorite songs. It has a great beat and an old-timey feel and it's really fun to rock out to at literally anytime. But mostly on Saturday nights. Listen and you'll see why. ;)  
**

* * *

what's a boy to do when all the pretty girls can't measure to you?

"Mommy, you look so pretty!"

Spencer grins at her daughter through the mirror, the curling iron slipping through her hair fluidly. "Thank you, Gracie."

"What dress are you wearing?" She wonders, resting her elbow on the bathroom counter, her chin in her palm. "The red one?"

"I was thinking about it," Spencer considers. "Why?"

"'Cause," Grace shrugs. "You gotta wear the black one. It's prettier."

"It is, huh?" Spencer smirks. "You're a fashion expert, now?"

"Yes," Grace nods matter-of-factly. "It looks better with your sparkly shoes. And daddy will like it more!"

"You've been spending too much time with Hanna," Spencer teases and Grace giggles.

"I mean it, mommy," Grace insists. "The black one. Wear the black one!"

Spencer places the curling iron on the counter, switching it off and unplugging it in one fluid motion. She instructs Grace not to touch it as she touches up her mascara, adds a bit more eye shadow and blots at her lipstick. Turning for approval, she asks her daughter, "What do you think?"

"Good," Grace nods. "You know how it would be better?"

"With the black dress?" Spencer replies amusedly and Grace laughs.

"Yes! You need it!"

"Alright, alright," Spencer agrees, shooing her daughter from the bathroom. "Let me change. Go find your father and tell him I'll be ready in ten minutes."

Grace scampers out of the room and Spencer shakes her head, that gleeful smile still adorning her features. This evening, Spencer's practice is being honored with an award of excellence from the American Psychological Association and their reward is a ceremony in town hall that she and Toby will be attending. It's a huge honor that she never quite thought she would be a part of; she always did what she did because she felt like she needed to give back to her community. She had received a boatload of psychological assistance in her youth and nothing felt better to her than tending to the young minds that needed an outlet much like she once had. This award is nothing more than a bonus; a result of her and her colleagues' hard work and dedication.

The ceremony is adults-only, so Grace will be staying behind. When Toby and Spencer first discussed who could watch her that evening, Grace had requested her beloved and "fun" Uncle Jason. It's unfathomable how much that little girl loves her Uncle Jason; Spencer's not exactly sure what they do when they're together- she imagines he lets her eat all the sugar she wants and have free reign over their leisure activities- but whatever it is, Grace simply cannot get enough. When she had called and asked, Jason had agreed and that nearly sent Grace into an elated spiral. Spencer hears the doorbell, then, and an excited shriek; he's arrived.

She slips into the black dress upon Grace's insistence, zips the back and straps on her dressy heels. Giving herself the once over, Spencer's mostly satisfied; although she'd much rather stay home in pajamas, as she was most comfortable on Friday nights doing. When she descends the stairs, she can hear jovial conversation between her husband and brother and some kind of flashy music emanating from the television. As she enters the living room, she recognizes it as _Princess and the Frog_ and Grace is intently focused upon it. Toby does a double take at the sight of her and Grace takes a moment's break from her movie watching to cheer triumphantly.

"I told you," She beams. "The black one's the best!"

Toby approaches her and curls his hands around her hips. "You look so beautiful."

"Thank you," Spencer smiles warmly and accepts the kiss he places upon her lips eagerly. When they pull apart, she plays with his tie a bit, complimenting, "You don't look too bad yourself."

"Well, I have stiff competition I have to keep up with," He tells her, pulling back to admire the view once more. "You went with the black."

"Yes, Grace gave me no other option," Spencer informs him and he chuckles.

"It was the optimal choice."

"So you like it? Grace knows you well."

"I like it very much."

"As much as I'm enjoying you drooling over my sister," Jason cuts in. "You should probably get going. You don't want to be late to your own party, right?"

They agree, each bending to kiss Grace goodbye and elicit a promise from her that she'll be on her best behavior. Spencer thanks Jason on her way out the door and then they're gone. Jason turns to Grace and says, "So what'll it be, kiddo? We're just watching a movie? That doesn't seem like you."

Grace turns and gives him the most devious and mischievous smile he's ever seen in his life. From that small action, Jason can tell he's in for _quite_ a night.

* * *

The ceremony lasts a good few hours and Spencer has to make an impromptu speech she wasn't planning on, but otherwise, it goes swimmingly. The APA presents them with a large placard to hang in their office, all their names embossed in gold across the shiny mahogany. When she departs the stage to thunderous applause, she's pretty sure Toby's cheering the loudest. He embraces her tightly when she reaches the table, pressing a kiss to her hair and proclaiming just how proud he is of her. They dine and mingle with her colleagues and truly have an enjoyable evening. It had been awhile since they'd had a night out and they are just beginning to realize how much they'd desperately needed it.

It's a little after eleven by the time they pull into their driveway. All the lights in the house are dark save for the living room, but the porch lights are on, welcoming them back. It's dark and they're just slightly tipsy, but they make their way to the living room mostly unscathed. There they find Jason, wearing a look of unparalleled exhaustion. Spencer asks, "Jason? You okay?"

"Oh," He startles. "I didn't hear you get in."

"Yeah, we just got back," Toby comments and Jason nods.

"Your daughter," Jason sighs. "Is a _maniac_."

Spencer sits in the armchair beside him, removing her shoes. "Why? What did she do?"

"Ask me what she didn't do if you want a shorter list," Jason informs her and Toby frowns.

"We told her to behave."

"Oh she didn't misbehave," Jason shakes his head. "I think you misunderstood me. She has _so_ much energy… She's so tiny! Where does she store it all?"

"Oh my god," Spencer's hand comes to cover her heart in relief. "I thought she did something awful."

"No she's just…" Jason begins to elaborate. "We finished watching _Princess and the Frog_, which I'd never seen before and it was much better than I'd expected. Anyway, she told me she wanted to be a princess so she runs upstairs and comes back down in her Belle dress. She tells me I have to be the Beast and all of a sudden, we're waltzing around the living room!"

"I would pay big money," Toby laughs. "To see you waltz."

"I should've recorded it and uploaded it to YouTube, because I'm sure it was quite the spectacle," Jason agrees. "Anyway, when she decided she was done with that, she wanted to make a band, so we gathered a bunch of pots and pans from the kitchen and lined them up. She banged on those things _so loud_."

"Oh, rookie mistake," Spencer comments. "I could've warned you."

"Yeah, a warning would've been nice," Jason frowns. "When the band took a siesta, we played flashlight tag outside, which is really ridiculous when there's only two people. I also obtained at least a dozen mosquito bites, but that's beside the point. We came in and she wanted to make ice cream sundaes, which sounded calm to me, so I agreed. But the sugar… She bounced off the walls and ran around like a crazy person until finally, I decided it was bath time."

"But that's where all the fun began," Jason continues. "Because the bath tub became a pool and she wanted to show me what she learned in swim lessons. But it was impossible because the tub is so obviously not a pool. Didn't stop her from trying, though. When she was done, I got her dried, dressed and then we played hide and seek. I'm not going to lie to you, I legitimately thought I lost her for a minute there. She was hiding in the laundry separator! Who thinks of that?"

"So after that heart attack, I pretty much read her entire library to her," Jason concludes. "And then she crashed. See what I mean?"

"Yeah," Spencer nods, amused. "That sounds pretty exhausting."

Toby smiles knowingly. "Welcome to our lives."

Jason shakes his head and starts for the front door. "More power to you."

Spencer opens the door for him and when he's on the porch she says, "Thank you, though. We really appreciated it. I understand if you don't want to do it again, but-"

"Are you kidding?" Jason shakes his head. "I love that little kid. She may have won this time, but next time I'm coming prepared."

Spencer grins. "Really?"

"You bet," Jason states adamantly. "Gracie hasn't seen the last of her Uncle Jason."


	14. we can stay and talk until three

**Good morning, good morning! It's great to stay up late! Good morning, good morning to you! That just became completely irrelevant if you are located/reading this at sometime other than morning. Apologizes. Anyway, here's the next chapter for you. I'm glad you enjoyed the last one and I sincerely thank you for your feedback! I'm really, really thankful for the reviews. Seriously, they make my day.**

**Today's chapter title stems from "Light A Roman Candle With Me" by Fun. Bear with me for this chapter. I was just learning about the ADHD phenom in France in my own behavioral psych class and thought it would be a nice little shake up for these guys. Thanks and I hope you'll enjoy!  
**

* * *

we could stay and talk until three, i will think it's magic and i'll hope you'll agree

"When you fix the carbonator," Grace asks from the truck bench. "Can I drive?"

"It's carburetor, honey," Toby grins. "And no, you can't drive. You've still got another thirteen years until that happens."

"But I can reach the steering wheel now," Grace insists and sits tall to prove it, her hands in the perfect 10-and-2 position she'd seen her parents demonstrate. "See daddy? I can do it."

"You can reach the steering wheel, but you can't reach the pedals," Toby informs her, motioning towards the floor of the truck. "And until then, this truck isn't going anywhere."

Grace considers this and frowns, but eventually shakes her head of his rejection and continues to feign racing daringly. She turns the wheel right and left, makes all the appropriate sound effects and claims she's even faster than Vanellope von Schweetz (_Wreck-It Ralph_ happens to be her latest Disney obsession). Toby just laughs, his hands deep into the bowels of his truck, and allows her to play along. It's a sunny Saturday in early November and the evening prior on his way home from work, that old faithful Chevy truck Toby had loved for years finally gave out. Granted, he'd bought a new truck years ago in anticipation and only ever used the one Spencer had bought him when he absolutely had to. The truck bed was deep and sturdy enough to carry his toughest loads and therefore, it came in handy every now and then.

Last night had been one of those times. He'd needed to transport a couple dozen loads of concrete tiles he was slated to install on Monday and on his way home from the delivery, that poor old truck decided it just couldn't do it any longer. Toby had told Spencer in the way one might inform another of the loss of a family member; the truck had played such an integral part in both their lives that he perhaps he felt it was. Spencer hadn't been shocked; on the contrary, she'd admitted amazement at the fact that it survived this long. But Toby won't give up on the old heap of metal. Sure, they have his other truck and Spencer's SUV to get them around town. But he needs to keep the truck around if only for sentimental value. Thus all the work he's been pouring into it this morning.

He pulls his hands out from behind the engine and wipes the grease off on a rag atop his toolbox. The keys are dangling from his pocket and he approaches the driver's side, saying, "I'm going to start it up now, okay? We'll see if I fixed it."

"Okay!" Grace squeals excitedly. "I bet you fixed it, daddy. You always fix things."

Toby turns the key in the ignition and the car makes a sputtering sound and then cuts out. He tries again and this time the engine crackles and groans, as if irritated that Toby has dared to interrupt its eternal slumber. Grace covers her ears immediately, a look of pain on her face, and shouts that it's too loud. Toby has to agree; it's not a pleasant sound. The poor old truck had not only had a dramatic death, but is now having a theatrical afterlife as well. There's a faint smell of burning rubber and Toby pulls the key from the ignition and yanks open the hood again. He frowns. "The spark plug's misfired. _Great_. I hope it didn't damage the catalytic converter…"

"How's it coming?" Spencer asks, heading down the driveway to meet them, a tray of food accompanying her. "How are my little worker bees?"

"Mommy," Grace sticks half of her body out of the driver's open window in greeting. "The truck made a really scary sound!"

"It did?" She questions and turns to Toby. "So it's not going well?"

"The spark plug's shot, the HT leads are causing friction…" Toby sighs. "This thing's been in bad shape for awhile. I wish I realized. Maybe I could've prevented it from crapping out on me."

"Toby that thing was old when I bought it," Spencer says. "It's _ancient_, now. It was bound to happen."

He nods slowly and she lifts the food she's brought. "I made lunch. Grilled cheese sandwiches."

Toby chuckles at the implication and wipes his hands again. Grace tumbles out of the driver's door and the three settle themselves in the bed of the truck. While they munch, Toby and Spencer recall the fond memories they'd enjoyed in this very truck and Grace asks how her father had acquired it. From there, they launch into one of their favorite stories and inform Grace all about how Spencer had pawned her sister's wedding ring ("Mommy, that wasn't very nice!"), how she had used the money to purchase the truck ("That's a big present! How did you wrap it up?") and of course how when she'd presented it to him, they'd first professed their love for one another and sealed the promise with a kiss ("Ew! Kissing is so yucky!"). Spencer whisks her daughter away for a nap once lunch is through, but Toby remains insistent upon fixing this truck. There are just far too many memories for him to leave it behind.

He works long into the night, pausing only for dinner, and eventually must throw in the towel when he loses daylight. Somehow managing to tuck it back into the corner of the garage, Toby pulls a white canvas over it and it all feels oddly prophetic, as though he truly is suffering a great loss. He makes a promise to himself that he will get this truck running again someday, no matter what it takes. But for now, he's taking a step back. He washes up, reads Grace a handful of stories and joins Spencer in tucking her into bed. When she's fast asleep and the two are fresh from showers and comfy on the couch, Toby uncorks a fresh bottle of Pinot, as is custom on a Saturday night. Other couples might prefer a night on the town, dancing, bar hopping, maximizing their late twenties. But not them; they were much happier basking in the quiet of their own home in one another's company.

The wine is halfway gone when Toby proposes, "We should move to France."

Spencer nearly chokes and the wine burns the whole way down. "I'm sorry?"

"We never got a honeymoon and we could honestly use the escape from reality," Toby states. "I'm serious. We should move to Paris."

Spencer eyes him carefully. "Is this about your truck? Toby, it's like twenty years old-"

"This isn't about the truck," He laughs. "When have we ever been adventurous? When have we ever just thrown caution to wind and done something that we've _wanted_ to do instead of something we've had to? We've spent our entire lives living by the rules and doing what others tell us to and… I just think we should be careless for awhile."

"Okay," Spencer shakes her head, removing the wine glass from his hand. "No more alcohol for you."

"You don't think it's a good idea?"

"I think it's a great idea," Spencer tells him. "For people who are unemployed and without children; two qualities you and I do not possess."

"Please, those can easily be solved," Toby replies. "People need carpenters everywhere; people need psychologists everywhere. And Grace? It would be an amazing opportunity for her. She could go to one of those fancy academies with the uniforms, you know? She'd become bilingual. It would be so great."

"It's impractical," Spencer insists and Toby disagrees.

"It's not," He's shaking his head. "People do it all the time. Think about it. The Eiffel Tower, the Lourve, the catacombs. That bridge with all the locks on it."

"The Pont de l'Archevêché," Spencer clarifies and Toby laughs.

"You outsmarting me in another language," He teases. "The food. Think of the food, Spence. Plus we'd be getting out of Rosewood for a year, which is always a great part of any deal."

"It is. I'm not saying that it's not a good idea," Spencer tells him. "It's just far too unrealistic, especially where we are now in our lives. And our families and friends would freak."

"In case you haven't realized," He smirks. "I really don't care what my family thinks."

"I know," She responds. "But let's just… Put a pause on living in France for now, okay?"

But the universe is a particularly ironic son of a bitch sometimes. On Monday evening, after all her patients have gone home and the practice shuts down for the night, Spencer and her colleagues gather in the conference room for their weekly meeting and her boss immediately starts spouting off about a new study. Research has found that less than .5% of children in France are being diagnosed with ADHD and it's one of the lowest rates in the entire world. She turns to Spencer, her behavioral psychologist of choice, and asks if she would like to be funded to do onsite research on this phenomenon or lack thereof. Spencer doesn't really believe in fate, but she's pretty sure someone up there is screwing with her and enjoying it greatly.

She calls Toby on her way home because she literally can't keep from bursting. "I'm taking France off pause. You still interested in going?"

He chuckles for a while before replying, "_Bien sûr_!"


	15. i have often dreamed of a far off place

**Happy Easter! Unless you don't celebrate it then happy Sunday haha. Quick author's note before I go do some line edits on a friend's story (blegh)- thank you SO much for the reviews and welcome to the handful of new followers/favorites I garnered! Yay I'm glad you found this story and I'm glad you're enjoying! Now this is true story from my life- a kid at work (I work at a daycare) actually decided to do this to his parents and they didn't know what to do with him. I suggested the swear jar situation and viola. Problem solved. :P**

**The chapter title is from "Go the Distance" from the movie Hercules. Underrated Disney movie, I think.  
**

* * *

i have often dreamed of a far off place

As they had expected, telling their friends and families that they're moving to France for a year does not go off entirely well. Peter and Veronica express the barbarity of the situation despite the fact that it will most likely be a rewarding experience for all involved. They complain about not being able to see Grace whenever they like and Spencer has to bite back a retort that they don't exactly utilize their proximity to their advantage now, anyway. Emily says that Bennett will truly miss having Grace in his class, Aria talks of how much Spencer will miss out on and Hanna articulates her jealousy that they're going to spend a year in, arguably, the fashion capital of the world. The only one who doesn't respond with malice, jealousy or longing is, ironically, Melissa. She tells them it'll be a spectacular experience for the three of them and that they're making a wonderful choice. The shockwaves stay with Spencer for weeks after the fact.

The move isn't permanent, so they don't put their house on the market. Instead, they cancel their subscriptions, forward their mail overseas and turn off all utilities. A few weeks after Grace's fourth birthday, they take the eight-or-so-hour flight to Paris, en route to their next adventure. It's Grace's first time on an airplane and she marvels over every little thing. She doesn't fall asleep despite the dim cabin lights and it being well after midnight; as a result, she's an exhausted, cranky mess when they do eventually arrive in Paris. The time difference messes all three of them up for days, but when they do adjust, they take in the magnificent Parisian atmosphere that will be their home for the next twelve or so months and are ultimately content.

Spencer's been hard at work ever since they arrived, partnering with the American University of Paris in her study of children with ADHD. It's fascinating research and it resonates well with Spencer considering she possesses the disorder as well. It truly is remarkable that a behavioral disorder so commonly found in America is so rarely found here, in France. She completes her work each day and long-distance calls her boss back home to report her findings. Toby, on the other hand, has picked up a few odd jobs here and there, but hasn't truly found anything stable. He's fairly okay with that; it means he can spend more time with Grace and the two can explore their new city when she's not in school.

Speaking of which, preschool is absolutely nothing like it is in the United States. It's free, for one, and it's all day, for another. Grace is occupied by _école maternelle, la moyenne section_ for the majority of her week, save for Wednesday which is something her parents still don't really understand. But otherwise, she absolutely loves it. She goes to school with plenty of other children who don't speak French, but they're learning and to hear her tiny voice spiel in broken French is one of the cutest things her parents had experienced thus far. Every few weeks or so, Toby and Spencer receive a binder full of Grace's schoolwork, handwriting practice and artwork she's made in free time. It's astounding to see what she's been learning; mostly, it's things children in America wouldn't learn until midway through elementary school. Besides scholastic things, however, Grace is also picking up on cultural clues and certain behavioral things her classmates do. And one of these surprises Toby to near silence.

"Hi Gracie," He greets her one chilly afternoon in late February. "How was your day?"

"It was really good, Toby, how was yours?" She replies, tugging her backpack more firmly on her shoulders.

Toby stares at her and asks, "What did you just call me?"

"Toby," She answers. "Isn't that your name?"

"It is," He confirms, taking her hand and departing the school in the direction of the metro. "But not to you. To you, it's daddy."

"But Laurent calls his mommy and daddy their names," Grace insists. "And so does Jean-Luc. And Catherine."

"I have never heard any of your friends call their parents anything but mom and dad," Toby disagrees. "Are you lying to me?"

"No I'm not," Grace defends. "They do it."

And sure enough, as they're boarding the metro towards home, a little girl from Grace's school spiels in an upset French before beckoning her mother for something Toby can't quite understand. When her mother ignores her request, the little girl begs harder, employing her mother's name and not her title. Grace smiles triumphantly, saying, "See? I told you."

Toby shakes his head in disbelief. "Okay, well… They might be okay with that, but I'm not. So why don't we stick to daddy, okay monkey?"

"No way, Toby," She disagrees. "You are my daddy and I am your kid but you don't call me 'kid.' You call me my name. And I want to call you _your_ name."

He has to hand it to her; that's _technically_ true. Arguing with Grace is almost as exhausting as arguing with Spencer sometimes; he's always thought his daughter was the clone of her mother and if it weren't for those bright blue eyes, the ones identical to his own, he would think that he simply had no part in her making. Toby takes her home and begins to fix dinner, as it's nearing four-thirty and Spencer should be home within the hour. Grace counts to one hundred in French, her newest accomplishment, and Toby has to say, he's honestly impressed. She's learned faster than he ever has, and he had the greatest tutor in the world.

When her mother does arrive home, Grace greets her with an enthusiastic hug and asks, "Hi Spencer! How was work?"

"I'm sorry, what did you call me?" Spencer replies, reciprocating the hug in confusion.

"This is her new thing," Toby informs his wife, setting the table. "She says since we don't call her by her title, she doesn't have to call us by ours."

"Oh really?" Spencer smirks. "Is that how it works?"

Grace nods. "Let's eat now. I'm starving."

Throughout dinner, Grace name-drops them at least a dozen more times, as if trying to make a point. Her parents receive the message and are ultimately puzzled on how to get her to stop. She continues to do so as dinner is finished, as Spencer cleans up after them and as Toby ushers her into the bathroom for a bath and to ready herself for bed. He combs through her wet hair afterwards with many complaints of, "Ouch, Toby! That hurts!" Desperately, he tries to ignore it. When he frees her, Toby retreats to the master bedroom in order to answer some emails, but Grace follows him anyway, lingering and just slightly lost without the multitude of toys she'd left behind at home.

"Are you doing work?" She asks, bouncing onto the bed beside him.

"A little," He answers. "Just getting all of our stuff at home squared away."

"I want to watch a movie," She decides. "Can we watch Netflix?"

Toby agrees, "Can you give me a few minutes, though?"

"I know what I want to watch already," Grace informs him. "_Hercules_."

_"Hercules,_ huh?"

"Have you ever seen that movie, Toby?" She wonders and Toby tries hard not to roll his eyes when she says his name. "It's really good."

"I bet Hercules called his mommy and daddy mom and dad," Toby says and she frowns.

She continues to pester him about watching the movie until he relents. Toby switches off the lights as Grace switches the movie to full screen. Just as he's about to leave, she pleads, "Wait, watch it with me, Toby. Don't go away."

So he does. He drapes his daughter with a blanket and settles in beside her. Moments later, Spencer enters the room to find them totally engrossed in the film and chuckles a bit. "What are we watching?"

"_Hercules_," Grace whispers, not taking her eyes off the screen, but patting the open space on the bed beside her. "Come watch."

She obliges, snuggling into the warm cocoon her husband and daughter have made. "Family movie night?"

"Spencer, have you ever seen it?" Grace asks and finally, Spencer's figured out a way to kick Grace's new habit.

"Actually, I haven't seen it in a while. But do you know what?" Spencer begins. "I think it's cool that you want to call daddy and I by our names."

"You do?" Grace asks in surprise and Toby looks just as shocked.

"You _do?_"

"Absolutely," Spencer agrees. "You can call us by our names anytime you want. But there's going to be some consequences."

"Like what?"

"Well, you know your swear jar?" Spencer questions and Grace nods proudly. "You get a dollar every time daddy or I say a bad word and when you get enough money, what are we going to do?"

"Take me for ice cream," Grace answers easily.

"Right," Spencer smiles. "But here's the thing- every time you call me Spencer or daddy Toby, we're going to take a dollar _out_ of the swear jar."

Grace's eyes go wide. "What?"

"Yeah," Spencer says firmly. "So think about that the next time you want to call us by our names, okay?"

Toby shoots her an impressed grin and she returns his look triumphantly. Grace considers this and says, "Okay mommy."

"That's better," Spencer kisses her crown. "Now what did I miss?"

"Hercules is a god, but this bad guy, Hades, wants him to die so he can rule," Grace explains. "And Hades lives in- what's it called, daddy?"

"The underworld," Toby offers and Grace nods.

"Yeah, the underworld. So Pain and Panic steal baby Hercules and make him drink this yucky potion," Grace goes on. "It's so he'll die, but he doesn't drink all of it, so he doesn't die. He lives with these people now and he's super duper strong! He picked up the cart and the goat and the hay over his head!"

"Oh my god," Spencer grins. "That's impressive!"

"Yeah," Grace agrees. "And no one's nice to him. So he's going to find new friends, I think."

"I would too," Toby puts in. "You think he'll find what he's looking for?"

"Yeah," Grace says. "Mommy says everyone finds what they're looking for someday."

Toby shakes his head, a smile evident on his face. "Your mommy's right about that one, Gracie."


	16. the night is here and the day is gone

**I am literally so happy I cannot contain myself and it's a complete 180 to the way Toby's feeling in this chapter. I'm going to share a little anecdote with you from my life so you know why I'm so insanely happy but don't feel obligated to read it haha. So I'm getting my BA in Creative Writing in like two weeks and I have an insanely harsh workshop leader who has like two positive things to say about your stories before ripping them apart. Well today, he actually told me that he LOVED my story. I've heard him say that to only two other people before; it's nothing to bat an eye at. I still can't stop freaking out about it; everyone in my class loved it and my professor said that it was "exquisite and professional." Well hey, at least I know I'm doing something right. ;)**

**Today's chapter title comes from "The World Spins Madly On" by The Weepies. Kudos to you if you actually read my little life story. I've wanted to be a writer since I was little and have been writing since third grade, so you know, it's just nice to be recognized for it. I am my toughest critic, of course, but that professor of mine is next in line. It's nice to know I'm in the right business, right? :P  
**

* * *

the night is here and the day is gone

As is custom with any being of the human race, there are good days and there are bad days. There is supposed to be a fair balance of the two, or if you're really lucky, there are far more good days than bad. Of course, you could tip the other end of the scale too and drown underneath the bad days with only a handful of good to get you through. Toby Cavanaugh knows all too well what this feels like. When his mother had first been diagnosed, she had her manic days and she had her depressive days, but they were, at first, well balanced. But then she began to deteriorate; she'd stay in bed all day, the covers drawn and lights off, or she'd forget his name, or she'd run the shower to drown out her guttural sobs. It never worked; Toby always heard her.

After she'd passed, Toby felt like he was in an endless free-fall; living, but not feeling, there, but unacknowledged. His mother was barely cold before his father had moved on and Toby's endless stream of bad days was far from over. His stomach still churns at the thought of what Jenna had done to him, at what she'd made him do; he grips the steering wheel more tightly. He needs to calm down; this is only adding to his insurmountable anger. But the purpose of this mental walk down memory lane had been to distract himself from his current anger by providing himself with memories of when he'd been worse off. He hardly thinks that anything can be worse than his teenage years.

He was thought of to be a freak long before Alison DiLaurentis and her posse preached this from the mountaintops. His lack of athletic finesse and disinterest in what his classmates deemed "normal" easily set that in stone for him. Toby had heard all the rumors; that he was a Peeping Tom, that he delighted in murdering animals, that he was involved in hard drugs, constantly in pursuit by the law. He'd heard it all and he hadn't minded, not really, because if people were occupied with these thoughts, then they didn't have time to learn the truth of _why_ he was the way he was. There wasn't really anything he could do about their thoughts; there wasn't really anything he could do about Jenna. And although it's pathetically tragic, he still would like to kiss Alison DiLaurentis's damn feet for getting him away from her.

That doesn't mean he doesn't still hate her. He hates her with a burning passion. He hates that he was blamed for murdering her when all he did was share a sweater. He hates that he spent time under law enforcement's watchful eye because of this accusation, when in reality, Alison DiLaurentis may not have been well, but she was certainly alive. He hates what she did to Emily, to Hanna, to _Spencer_; to girls she claimed were her best friends. He tries his hardest to channel his current anger into the past instead. Words cannot describe the way he felt when Spencer told him, through pained tears, that Alison was still alive. It wasn't until then, it wasn't until _that very moment_, that Toby realized he wanted her dead.

Okay, his displacement isn't working. Today had been an absolute stress-fest and everything that could have gone wrong absolutely did. He'd gotten a job just on the outskirts of Paris and had rented a car in which to transport him there, just to save time. But everything had pissed him off; he'd had an unwanted coworker, the car he'd rented had been on its last leg and the client he'd worked for had been an absolute disaster. They'd been living in Paris for three months now and just when Toby had started to believe that everyone in Paris was gracious, warm and kind, the client he'd worked for today turned out to be a human cesspool and he wanted to take everything back. He pulls into the rental car agency, returns the keys and demands in angry French for his money back. He succeeds. Heading straight for the metro, Toby realizes he has to find a way to harness his anger, because there's no way this is good for his body.

A little after eight p.m., Toby arrives on the 8th arrondissement and starts towards their apartment. He'd grown accustomed, when he was younger, to a slew of bad days, but he hasn't had many of them since. Perhaps that's why he's so irascibly angry; he hadn't had a bad day in a while and maybe some naïve part of him thought they were over. He shakes his head, turns the key and pushes open their front door. His family's nowhere to be seen and most of the lights are off save for the one above the stove; the one Spencer keeps on superstitiously all hours of the day and night. There is a glowing light coming from their daughter's room and he can hear giggles, so he follows the sound and comes to observe from the hall.

"Polar bears have black skin under their fur to better absorb the sun," Spencer reads.

"That's good," Grace comments, perched on her mother's lap. "'Cause sunblock would make their fur all sticky."

Spencer nods and turns the page. "Galapagos tortoises sleep sixteen hours a day and can go a year without food or water."

"Don't they get hungry?" Grace asks, wide-eyed. "That's a long time to wait."

"It really is," Spencer agrees. "It also says that the longest-living Galapagos tortoise lived to be 152 years old!"

"Oh my gosh!" Grace exclaims. "That's just like Crush!"

Toby smirks, not even a bit surprised by her reference, as she has become quite the Disney encyclopedia. Her reading material also does not shock him; an A-Z National Geographic book is exactly the type of thing he would expect Grace to select from the library. Toby watches them a moment more, unwilling to disturb their mother-daughter bonding, and can't help the grin from forming on his face. Was he angry before? Did he have a horrible day? He doesn't remember. He's too busy witnessing one of the most beautiful things life has ever given him. Spencer and his mini-Spencer; his two favorite girls. They're happy, extremely happy, and by extension, so is he. He should have known that returning home would make his terrible day feel as though it never happened. These girls always make anything awful inconsequential.

Spencer glances up, then; she must have sensed his presence. "Hey. I didn't hear you come in."

"That's okay," He insists. "I wouldn't want to interrupt."

"Daddy," Grace greets jovially. "Did you know that the king cobra has enough poison in him to kill an elephant?"

Toby's eyes widen and he shakes his head. "I didn't know that. That's pretty awesome."

"Not for the elephant," She giggles and her parents agree.

"Is this really a good bedtime story?" Toby questions and Grace insists adamantly.

"Yeah I just got it today!"

"We took a trip to the library after school," Spencer informs him. "She's been begging me to read it to her ever since."

"It's really cool," Grace nods. "I like the pictures, too."

"It's pretty long, though," Spencer informs her daughter. "I think we'll have to save the rest for tomorrow."

"Aw," Grace frowns. "But it's so good I don't want to finish!"

"Hey, think about all the cool things you'll have to tell your friends tomorrow in school," Toby points out. "You'll be the smartest one in the class."

Grace giggles. "Okay."

Her parents fold her beneath the sheets of her bed and kiss her goodnight. When they've retreated to the living room, Spencer properly greets him with a kiss of his own and asks, "How was your jaunt to the French countryside?"

"Awful," Toby says truthfully, sensing the concern in her eyes and squandering it before she can ask. "But my day's much better now, thank you."

"Because you're home?"

"Because _you're_ home," He elaborates. "And honestly, that's all I need."


	17. but i'm alright cause i have you here

**Good morning, good morning! Thank you for all your magnificent reviews on the last chapter! I love them. Seriously, they always bring a smile to my face, so keep 'em coming. ;) We've got roughly eleven chapters left of this story, but I think I may have already come up with another idea. Help me. Once I start, I'll probably never stop. It's fine, though. I'm going to need something to keep me busy from my last day of classes (a week from today, what whaaaat) to graduation. I can't just sit in my apartment and do nothing... Well, I guess I could. But where's the fun in that? :P**

**The chapter title comes from "Feels Like Home" by Chantal Kreviazuk. Legit one of the Spoby-est songs I've ever heard. I highly recommend it. Anyway, have a magical day, y'all. Thanks for reading!  
**

* * *

but i'm alright, 'cause i have you here with me

In May, France goes through a torrent of unparalleled mood swings weather-wise. The final week of April leaves a cold and rainy mess behind, but the first week of May brings sunshine and warmer weather. Then, in the second week, temperatures drop to the low thirties and one day, it even snows. The third week, it's back to sunshine, pleasant breezes and high 60s; the final week, it's rainy everyday and it doesn't seem as though it wants to let up. The temperamental weather causes frustration amongst all the residents of the smoggy city, but most of all, it causes one tiny resident to fail in health.

One night, Grace wakes up crying and when Spencer goes to console her, she finds her daughter soaked in sweat, clammy and beet red. She has a fever of 102 degrees and complains about her throat hurting and her inability to breathe. Spencer never returns to bed; the rest of the night is spent at her daughter's bedside, medicating her and obsessively checking her temperature, pressing cold washcloths to her forehead and cheeks and providing her with tissues, as she well needs them. The next morning, they're both exhausted and though Grace insists upon going to school, neither of her parents relents. Spencer takes the day off, too, in order to care for her sick little girl.

Somewhere in the night, Grace had also picked up a cough. No one knows where it originated from, but Grace has a few theories. Still in her nightgown, Grace climbs onto the couch and crosses her arms miserably. "I hate Amelia Spaulding."

Spencer smirks in amusement, but scolds, "No you don't. You don't hate anyone."

"Yes I do. She got me sick," Grace informs her mother. "She was coughing and coughing and didn't cover her mouth and yesterday, she sneezed on me."

"That's disgusting," Toby comments, stirring some oatmeal. "Someone needs to teach this Amelia Spaulding some manners."

"And she got me sick," Grace points out, not willing to let it go. "It's true."

Spencer brings her the next dose of medicine and a glass of orange juice while Toby spoons some oatmeal into a bowl. Grace turns her nose up at all three. "I don't feel good."

"I know, baby," Spencer runs a hand through her daughter's straggly hair. "But this will make you feel all better."

"Nuh uh," Grace disagrees. "The medicine tastes yucky and oatmeal hurts my throat and I don't like orange juice anymore."

"Since when?" Toby snorts.

"Since forever," Grace says matter-of-factly. "I want to watch _Frozen_."

"Good luck," Toby tells his wife, snatching a kiss before pulling on a jacket. "I will be back later. I have some supplies I have to pick up."

"Mommy," Grace whines. "I wanna watch _Frozen_!"

"I heard you," Spencer says and barely has time to bid her husband farewell before he's out the door. "I want you to take your medicine and eat some breakfast."

Grace obliges, but when the medicine touches her tongue she makes the most over-exaggerated faces Spencer has ever seen. She knows the shit's gross, but if it works, so be it. Afterwards, Grace eats four or five spoonfuls of oatmeal while watching _Frozen_, takes one sip of her juice and then decides that her throat can't simply handle anything else. Except, of course, a Popsicle, which becomes her lunch. Spencer lets it slide. If being a good mother means forcing your child to eat real food when they can't stomach it, then Spencer's the worst they've seen and she's okay with it. Honestly, she's been in Grace's shoes before and she doesn't want her daughter to suffer any more than she has to.

She tries to get some work done from home, but it's extremely difficult to do when Grace is seeking comfort from her and there's an aloof snowman on the television singing about summer. Spencer gives up and cuddles Grace to her, feeling the heat from her fever radiate from every inch of her and wishing there was more she could do. They watch _Frozen_ twice more before Toby comes home and are in the middle of their third run-through when he walks through the door. Thankfully, he's brought dinner home with him; take-out from Grace's favorite restaurant down the street. They eat in the living room, something they _never_ do, and Grace would probably comment on it if she weren't feeling so awful. And yes, their dinnertime entertainment is a fourth viewing of _Frozen_.

That night, Grace wakes up again, a little after two a.m., in a severe coughing fit. She cries when it subsides, likely beyond exhausted, and it brings tears to Spencer's eyes. Seeing her daughter like this is dreadful; she can do nothing but wait it out, rub her back, cuddle her in tight. Spencer sits up with her most of the night, stroking her hair, singing songs to distract her and telling her stories. Miraculously, a little after five a.m. Grace falls into a restless slumber and Spencer's able to crawl back into her own bed. She, too, sleeps restlessly; her ears tuned to the smallest sniffle and cough in case her daughter would need her again.

The next morning, Spencer wakes up and feels like death. Of course her strict dedication to her ill child would lead to her contracting the virus as well, because no good deed goes unpunished. She can hear commotion in the living room, but she can't move from the bed. Her entire body hurts and when Toby comes into the room, he nearly balks at the sight of her. "Spence? Are you okay?"

"I feel like shit," She manages to utter and her voice sounds not only like nails on a chalkboard, but teeth and bones too. "Oh god…"

Toby doesn't even have to feel her forehead to know she's feverish. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with DayQuil. "Down the hatch. I'll start the countdown until I join you two in Sickville."

"If you're lucky like me," Spencer says, taking the medicine like a shot. "You only have a matter of hours."

Grace's sleep had been sporadic and sparse the night before, so to say she was cranky would be an understatement. When Spencer finds her on the couch, she's fidgeting and whining, not even placated by Anna and Elsa figure skating on the television screen before her. Spencer asks, "How are you feeling, Gracie?"

"Not good," Her lower lip trembles and her eyes grow watery. "My throat is all scratchy."

"Mine too," Spencer says, collapsing beside her. She's shaking and she's not sure if she's really cold or if she has the chills. Grace's breathing is labored and she can hear the mucus in her lungs. It breaks her heart. "Would it make you feel better if we watched _Frozen_ again?"

The credits are rolling and the overtired tears are threatening to spill over her cheeks. She nods. Spencer's not surprised. When the credits end, she exits to the DVD menu and hits play all over again. Grace cuddles next to her and when Spencer glances over her shoulder, she can see Toby speaking hurriedly on the phone, but her brain is far too tired to work and make out what he's saying. When he approaches them, she asks, "What was that about?"

"That was me taking off work," Toby tells her. "I've got to take care of my sick girls."

She smiles gratefully and shivers a bit as he sits beside her. "Is it cold in here? Because I'm _freezing_."

Toby wraps an arm around her and kisses her temple. She's still a furnace. "No, it's not. Plus, you're wearing three shirts, two of which are mine."

"Yeah?" She cocks an eyebrow at him. "Well, you're not getting them back."

"I don't want them back," He maintains. "Especially now that they're covered in your germs."

Spencer smiles and when Grace realizes her father's joined them, she crawls across her mother's lap and into her father's. His free arm comes up to support her and she asks, "Daddy, who do you want to be? In _Frozen_?"

To his confused look, Spencer explains, "Yesterday we decided which character we'd be if we were in the movie. I chose Elsa, Grace chose Anna."

"I wanna be Anna because she gets Kristoff," Grace elaborates, sticking her thumb in her mouth and Toby laughs.

"Clearly I've done a great job of teaching her that women aren't defined by men," Spencer says sarcastically and Toby considers the question.

"Sven," He decides suddenly and his daughter shoots him a grin.

"Daddy," She states. "Sven's a reindeer!"

"I know," Toby smiles. "But I like him. He's pretty great."

It's probably the 6,000th time Spencer and Toby have watched _Frozen_ with their daughter and therefore, they pretty much know the movie by heart. But the delightful thing about Grace is that even though she's seen it hundreds of times and can sing every word, she still laughs at all the jokes and gets sad at all the right parts and cheers at the end as though it were her very first viewing. So while her parents joke around her ("Do you want to build a snowman?" Toby asks and Spencer shakes her head viciously, responding, "No, _anything_ but a snowman."), Grace pays them no mind and when the movie ends, Grace is still complacently perched in her father's lap. Comfy for the first time since she'd contracted the virus, she looks at peace and Toby would like to keep this going, even if it means honoring her next request.

"Can we watch it again?"

"Grace…" Spencer starts, her voice catching. There's exhaustion in her eyes and delirium in her every move.

"Please?" She pleads, coughing a bit. "Just one more time?"

"One more time," Toby repeats. "One. And then we're going to do literally anything else."

Grace settles against him once he's restarted, thumb in her mouth and Mickey Mouse clutched to her chest. Spencer rests against him as well, muttering, "This _Frozen_ obsession is getting out of hand. She needs to learn to let it go."

Toby laughs. "Even hopped up on cold medicine, you still manage to make ridiculous puns."

Spencer smiles sleepily. "You just can't weaken my defenses, Toby."

"I think you mean offenses."

She yawns. "Yeah, those too."

Right as Hans and Anna are proclaiming that love truly is an open door (and Toby's wondering if Anna spent more time interacting with humans rather than portraits if she'd be able to tell when people are lying to her), Toby glances down to find Grace has completely conked out. Her thumb's dangling from her mouth, likely so she can breathe since she's so congested, and Mickey hangs limply from her grasp. She looks precious and perhaps a bit tragic, since he knows this is the first time she'd gotten actual sleep in the last two days. He leans down a bit and presses a kiss to the crown of her head, turning to draw Spencer's attention to their slumbering little girl.

However, when his eyes fall upon his wife, she's fast asleep too, her lips slightly parted, her eyes tightly shut. Her breathing isn't quite as labored as Grace's, but it's unfortunately getting there. Toby can almost hear the congestion creeping into her lungs and he wishes he could do something to take it away. He presses his lips to her forehead, which is still far too warm for his liking, and realizes, triumphantly, that he can _finally_ turn this movie off. Except for one small detail- he can't turn this movie off. The remote is on the coffee table and if he so much as moves, one or both of his sleeping beauties is sure to wake up. Torn, Toby glances from the two ladies snuggled upon him to the two ladies singing onscreen and frowns. He refuses to deny Spencer and Grace the rest they deserve, even if it costs him his patience along the way.

Toby sits back against the couch, defeated, and watches _Frozen_ for the 6,001st time. He wonders how many times it will take before he completely loses his mind.


	18. sunday morning rain is falling

**Hey there, friends. Thanks for all your kind words on the last chapter! Kids have that annoying quality about them where they always want to watch the same movie over and over again, so I hope that felt authentic! Trust me, I've been working with kids for a loooong time and I've experienced it many times firsthand haha. Anyway! On to the next chapter. Only ten left... Start the countdown now!**

**The chapter title comes from "Sunday Morning" by Maroon 5. The only band I love as much as Fun. is Maroon 5. Another fun fact about my life. ;)  
**

* * *

sunday morning rain is falling, steal some covers, share some skin

Paris in autumn is not quite as exaggerated foliage-wise as the northeast United States, but it possesses a quaint, unparalleled charm in its own. The air is crisp and the leaves are golden and almost everyone that the young family passes is clothed in a stylish pea coat, wrapped like a pretty package in a scarf. It's October; Grace begins to get excited for Halloween and her parents have still not found a way to tell her that the holiday is not nearly as big in France as it is in America. The day previous, Toby, Spencer and Grace had taken a trip to the Seine River and had scrawled their names in Sharpie on a golden lock, clasping it to the bridge and sealing their legacy forever. Grace had delighted in tossing the key over the side and the three watched their lock glisten in the autumnal afternoon sunlight.

Sunlight apparently is a thing of the past. Toby's eyes flutter open this morning to the soft pitter-pattering of rain caressing their bedroom window. It's just as dark in here as it was when they'd gone to bed hours earlier; there's a faint hope of light trying to pour through the blinds, but it's the dark and dreary kind, not the one of hope and promise. It's Sunday morning and, as Toby's oceanic eyes fall upon the clock at his bedside, it's only a bit after seven. It's far too early to be awake for a Sunday; Toby burrows further beneath the comforter and snuggles closer to Spencer, who murmurs something in her sleep about mutually exclusive social behaviors. Toby smirks; of course that's where her unconscious mind is, because she doesn't take a break even when she's asleep. She's been a sleep-talker for as long as he can remember, but she's also the lightest sleeper he's ever encountered, and so when he presses a kiss to her cheek, he isn't surprised when only moments later, she awakens.

She rubs a hand across her eyes and asks drowsily, "Was I bothering you?"

"What?" He questions in confusion. "No."

"Then why did you bother me?" Spencer counters, shooting him that signature look of hers. "I was sleeping."

He smirks. "Yeah, and now you're not."

"Look, just because you're awake at-" She pauses to glance over his shoulder and her eyes become saucers at the sight of the clock. "_7:13_ on a _Sunday_, doesn't mean we all want that. _7:13_, Toby? Really?"

"You're up _much_ earlier than this on the regular," He defends. "Don't pretend this is a travesty."

"It is a travesty," Spencer sighs. "It's _Sunday_."

"Yes, you've made that abundantly clear."

"Clear enough that you'll let me go back to sleep?" She yawns. "Your daughter has the energy level of the Road Runner on steroids and if I'm going to compete with that, I'm going to need my coveted rest."

"I love how she becomes mine only when she's acting out," Toby comments, slinging an arm across her stomach and pulling her closer. "And the reason she has so much energy is because she's _your_ kid. That's not blood running through her veins; it's pure caffeine."

"Not even possible. I didn't have a _drop_ of caffeine while I was pregnant," Spencer counters. "And you and I both know how awful I was to deal with without it. That's how I'm going to be today if you won't let me go back to sleep."

"But you can drink coffee again."

"Yeah, and I'm going to need it today. Might as well stick a straw in the coffee pot."

"I'm honestly not sure what's worse," Toby considers. "Over-caffeinated Spencer or caffeine-deprived Spencer."

She frowns. "You never make me sound good when you say things like that."

"Oh come on, you know I love you anyway," He tells her sincerely, punctuating his statement with a kiss to her temple. "Your intensity is part of your charm."

"Oh yeah?" Spencer replies, intrigued. "You like my intensity? You don't think it's scary?"

"Scary?" Toby chuckles. "No. Why?"

"Everyone always thought I was scary," Spencer informs him and Toby shakes his head.

"Nah, not me. To be honest, I never really knew much about you," Toby tells her. "You know, before. There was Alison and _everyone_ knew Alison and you four were just… her minions. I always just assumed you guys were just as bad as her… Which I guess makes _me_ just as bad as her; assuming the worst about people I don't actually know."

Spencer wonders, "So that day on your porch… What did you think I was there for?"

"To solicit information; get me to tell the truth, which I already was," He answers easily. "And I was kind of right about that, wasn't I? I mean, would you have signed up to tutor some random kid if he _wasn't_ the lead suspect in the murder of your best friend?"

"Maybe," She defends. "Community service looks good on college applications."

He rolls his eyes. "Of course. Did your college applications even have enough _room_ for everything you had to put on there?"

"Yes, although for _some_ it didn't matter, anyway."

"Are you _still_ mad about UPenn?" Toby implores and her silence answers his question. "Spencer, you told me you didn't want to go there anyway!"

"No, I didn't!" She insists. "But that's not the point. It's one thing _not_ to want something but it's entirely different to be told you can't have it."

"Alright, I get that, but honestly?" He looks her dead in the eye. "It's their unimaginable loss. Seriously. Columbia and Yale got lucky when they landed you. Just like I did."

Spencer grins and rolls over her side to kiss him, saying, "I love you."

He nuzzles their noses and mocks, "I wanted to say that first."

She laughs a bit, probing, "Did you plan on saying it then? After I gave you the truck?"

"No, and when I said it, I was afraid that maybe it was too soon," Toby admits. "But, I'd known it for awhile; I'd _felt_ it even longer. So it just sort of… slipped out."

"So that just slipped out," Spencer notes. "But when it comes to knowing when you wanted to marry me-"

"Oh that had to be planned," He says. "I'd been planning it for a while; _long_ before we even made plans for our anniversary that weekend. I wasn't even sure I was going to do it that weekend, but I just couldn't wait any longer."

A smile forms on her face, warm and slow. "When did you know?"

"When did I know? Easy," He answers fluidly. "I told you a long time ago that if you ever felt like you needed to run away to come to me first and when you did, that night you had that awful fight with your dad, I felt like… I don't know. I felt accomplished. I felt like you finally felt comfortable enough to share your problems with me and I felt like we could finally get over our communication issues."

"But it wasn't even then," Toby goes on before she can comment. "It was after that. It was the next morning, when I woke up, shivering in my own bed, because not only do you steal my clothes, but my blankets, too."

She laughs. "Sorry."

He shakes his head in a way that tells her it isn't really an issue. "The first thing I saw was your suitcase and I remembered what had happened the night before. But you were still sound asleep and when I looked at you… You looked so peaceful. It was the most at peace I had ever seen you, up until that point at least, and it made me incredibly happy. And I realized I could get used to that; to waking up to you. I realized that's what I wanted; to wake up to you everyday. To see you that peaceful all the time. That's when I knew I wanted to marry you."

Spencer curls her hand into his hair and brings his lips to hers. It's hard not to when he says things like that. He cups her face, pulling back to ask, "Satisfying answer?"

"Only the best," She answers before kissing him again, pushing the sheets that surround them away in order to bring his body even closer to hers.

Toby's hands graze her thighs and move to push the t-shirt of his off of her body. They separate slightly so he can do this and he uses the opportunity to accuse, "I'm beginning to think you only like me for my clothing. By the end of this marriage, I'll be walking around completely naked."

"You're only just beginning to notice this?" Spencer teases right back. "Oh Tobes, you're so far behind. That was my plan all along."

She reconnects their lips before he can issue a retort. Somehow, they both discard their underwear and neither of them are quite sure how since they don't break apart again and they're far too busy kissing and caressing to pay attention to anything else. Toby rolls them over, on top of her just a bit, and pushes the hair off her face so he can see her better. Her eyes flutter open and there's a look in her auburn eyes that gets him every time; a look he absolutely lives for. He'd seen it their first time and every time since. There's lust there, longing, a hint of nerves and a dash of heated desire. But most of all, there's an overwhelming sense of love and it absolutely fills and consumes him. To this day, Toby still cannot stop counting his blessings, thanking every last star that she had come to him when she had. He's honestly not sure where he'd be if she hadn't. He wants to go back to that misfit, tortured teenager, that innocent soul in juvie, that crying boy in the alley and tell him that everything's going to be okay; that one day, he's going to be rewarded with the best thing that will ever happen to him and it will far outweigh all of the bad.

Toby kisses her when they're through, when their breathing is still labored, when they can still hear their heartbeats pounding as one. Spencer looks at him and gets this feeling in her chest, the one she'd been feeling ever since she left high school and A behind, the one she gets every time she's with him. It had taken her longer than she'd care to admit to realize what it is; _happiness_. She's tremendously happy and after years of stress and tears and drama, she truly hadn't expected to ever quite feel this way again. But the night everything had come to an end, when she had finally been released from police custody and had pushed past the press and her sister and her parents to fall shakily into his arms instead, Toby had kissed her and had promised that everything was going to be okay. It wasn't something she'd put her faith in, ever the eternal pessimist, after all. But he'd made good on his promise; here she is, years later, with the man who makes her happiest in the world and a beautiful daughter she loves just as much. She's just happy; it isn't any more complicated than that and she's glad it isn't. She's had far too many complications in her short span of a lifetime.

He pushes the hair away from her neck and begins to press kisses there instead. "You still want to go back to sleep?"

It's after eight now and she knows he's baiting her. "No, thank you. I'll just have my signature eighteen cups of coffee and I'll be good."

Toby laughs and just a moment later, they can hear a door open on the far side of the apartment. He groans a little, saying, "So much for a quiet and lazy Sunday morning in bed."

"Yeah, we've got forty-five seconds until Hurricane Grace hits," Spencer says, sitting up and searching the floor for her discarded clothing. "So we're either dressing in that time or we're going to have to give her a very, _very_ early sex talk."

From there, it's a flurry of movement and clothing as the two rush to make themselves presentable. Spencer runs a hand through her hair and Toby's just yanked a shirt in place when Grace opens their bedroom door and bounds across the floor. She hops up on the bed and greets them as though she's already poured sugar straight into her veins. "_Bonjour!_"

Spencer laughs and kisses her cheek. "Good morning, beautiful!"

"How'd you sleep, monkey?" Toby asks, ruffling her hair.

"Good," She answers. "Can we make pancakes? I want go to the movies today. Did you know there's a bird's nest on the tree outside my window with new babies in it? They're so tiny!"

At least a dozen other excitable sentences pour from her mouth and Toby and Spencer share an amused grin. A lazy Sunday it would not be, but as long as the three of them are together, they don't really mind.


	19. so make a wish and do as dreamers do

**Hello hello hello! So I'm glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter and I have to ask you to bear with me through this one haha. I've never been to Paris so consequently I've never been to Disneyland Paris. Thus, I'm relying on the internet for all my info. Also I only took one year of French in high school (I was a Spanish girl, myself) so if my French sucks, don't shoot me. Okay, we got that out of the way? Fabulous. On with the show!**

**The lyrics today come from the "Wishes Soundtrack" from Disney World. "Wishes" is the nightly fireworks spectacular at the Magic Kingdom and although it's not specific to Disneyland Paris, I still felt it was necessary. Plus it sets the mood nicely, I think. Enjoy!  
**

* * *

so make a wish and do as dreamers do

On the morning of her fifth birthday, Grace awakens at four-thirty. She makes her bed as she was taught, pulls on her sparkling gold Belle dress and yanks a brush through her multitude of curls. A birthday crown sits upon her dresser and she doesn't hesitate to scoop her hair into a half-ponytail and place the tiara upon her head. Plastic heels make the outfit, she decides, and when she's satisfied with her appearance, she tears open her bedroom door and scurries down the hall to her parents' bedroom. They're still fast asleep and Grace frowns when she realizes their excitement doesn't match her own. She approaches the bed and hops on top, shaking them both awake and shouting, "Mommy! Daddy! Come on! It's time to go to Belle's castle!"

Toby and Spencer had promised to take Grace to Disneyland Paris to celebrate her birthday and she was so excited she could barely contain herself. However, since the park didn't open for another three and a half hours, she would have to learn self-control. Toby yawns and says, "Gracie, we've still got a few hours before we can go see Belle."

"Yeah, she's probably still fast asleep," Spencer tells her and then smirks at the sight of her daughter's haphazardly arranged hairstyle. "You did your own hair, huh?"

"Just like Belle's," Grace announces. "Don't touch it!"

"I wouldn't want to mess it up," Spencer replies. "But your hair's all tangled at the bottom. You look more like Rapunzel than Belle today."

Grace's eyes widen. "Do you think Rapunzel will be there too?"

"I bet all of your princesses will be there," Toby tells her and guides her towards the bed so she's lying between them. "But we've got a few hours, so you might as well get all rested before you can meet them."

Grace rubs her eyes. "But I'm not tired anymore. I'm too excited to sleep!"

"I know you are," Her father nods. "But even princesses need their beauty sleep."

She obliges begrudgingly and actually does manage to sleep for another hour or two before she's up for good. It's January so of course it's absolutely freezing outside, but Grace still insists upon dressing like Belle ever since her parents had made the mistake of telling her Belle's castle lies at the heart of Disneyland Paris. Spencer gives her an option, then- long-sleeves beneath the dress or a jacket on top, because though the sun is shining and it appears to be pleasant outside, it's still winter and there's still a thin layer of snow and ice upon the ground. She chooses the jacket, reluctantly allows Spencer to detangle her hair, and then they're on their way to Disneyland Paris for all her birthday activities.

Grace is giddy from the moment they leave the apartment to the moment they're through the gates. But when she sees Belle's castle at the end of Main Street U.S.A., her giddiness fades into pure awe and her parents wouldn't trade the look on her face for anything in the world. They take a handful of pictures outside the castle before acquiring a park map and attempting to get their bearings. Disneyland Paris is much smaller than the Magic Kingdom in Orlando and it's smaller than Disneyland in Anaheim as well, so it shouldn't take them too long to conquer everything Grace desires. She hops impatiently a bit and asks,

"What are we going to do?"

"We can do whatever you want," Toby tells her. "Look at the map and tell me what you want to do."

She considers it for a moment before pointing and saying, "Buzz Lightyear! We have to go ride Buzz Lightyear!"

And so they do. Discoveryland has a selection of rides she's too short for, but Buzz Lightyear Laser Blast is right up her alley. They board their space ship and shoot all the robots and aliens with their lasers to defeat the Evil Emperor Zurg. It's actually pretty enjoyable, so when they're through, they decide to ride it again. Paris in January is absolutely breathtakingly beautiful, but it's also very _cold_, so Disneyland Paris is fairly empty and the lines are pretty short; wait times never rise over twenty minutes the entire time they're there. It's off to Frontierland when they're through and, if possible, Grace's excitement increases ten-fold when she sees a russet brown coaster speeding through a goldmine.

"What's _that?_" She asks in awe and Spencer laughs a bit.

"That is Big Thunder Mountain," She informs her. "And it is _super_ fun."

"Is it scary?" Grace wonders. "It looks really fast!"

"It's not scary," Spencer promises her. "It is kind of fast but it's pretty fun, if you want to do it."

She nods so fast her crown bounces a bit on her head. "I want to do it!"

She takes off towards the line without a second glance and Toby laughs as the two follow her. "She's far too much."

"How many parenting points do you think we're getting for this?" Spencer implores teasingly. "I mean, best birthday ever, right? What do we win?"

"Everything's always about winning with you," He teases right back. "We win a happy little five-year-old, that's what."

And happy she is. When the "wildest ride in the wilderness" takes off, she's gripping the lap bar a bit nervously. But once they begin ascending, dropping, and tearing around turns, laughter peals from her lips and she throws her hands excitedly in the air. She's absolutely enjoying herself and she loves the ride so much that when they get off, she asks to ride again. They ride it twice more. Her parents are both sure that there would have been a fourth time had she not gotten preoccupied by the gloomy looking house a few hundred feet away. She's drawn to it and when they get in line and hear the ominous music, she once again asks,

"Is it scary?"

"Well it's not called Phantom Manor for nothing," Toby jokes but upon seeing her uneasiness, he assures her, "I'm sure it's a fun kind of scary. But if you don't want to ride it, we don't have to."

"No, I do want to ride it," She insists, but grips Spencer's hand a little tighter as they edge closer to the boarding platform. "I just don't want to be scared."

"Well you're the bravest little princess I know," Spencer tells her. "I bet nothing will be able to scare you."

Grace nods but says, "Hold my hand just in case."

"I won't let go," Her mother promises.

As it turns out, her parents had been right. Grace went from apprehensive to amused in the shortest time span. The grinning ghosts and goblins had only entertained her; when they depart she says, "That wasn't even scary!"

"I told you that you'd be fine!"

"What do you want to do next?"

"Um," She giggles. "Big Thunder Mountain!"

So they ride it twice more and bring her count up to five and that's how the rest of their day goes. They stop for lunch in Adventureland and when they're finished, they conquer Captain Barbossa and find Jack Sparrow on Pirates of the Caribbean. They watch the parade sing and dance its way down Main Street U.S.A. and Mickey Mouse blows Grace a kiss, which absolutely makes her day. All around, cast members note the pin attached to her dress and wish her a _joyeux anniversaire _and she responds with a docile _merci_. They spend their afternoon in Fantasyland, riding Dumbo, the teacups, Peter Pan's Flight, Alice's Curious Labyrinth and, of course, the ever-nauseatingly saccharine It's A Small World. Grace loves that one most and unfortunately for her parents, begs to ride it twice. As the birthday princess, they grant her that wish and try hard to ignore the song that will be stuck in their heads for days afterwards.

They have a good half hour until their dinner reservation, so of course Grace suggests they pass the time with Big Thunder _just one more time_. By the time they've finished, they're starving and more than ready for their dinner with Disney royalty at the Auberge de Cendrillon. They're seated right in the middle of the royal banquet hall and it isn't long before the princesses make their presence known all around them. Grace eats two, maybe three bites of her macaroni and cheese; she's far too busy meeting and interacting with Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty and Jasmine to worry about her dinner.

She's just finished her meet and greet with Ariel when she says, "I wish Belle was here too."

Toby smirks and nods behind her. "Don't freak out, Gracie, but she's right behind you."

Grace nearly falls out of her chair with excitement. Belle notes the button on her dress and says, "Happy birthday, Princess Grace! You look so pretty dressed just like me! Where are you from?"

Grace is still in awe, so Spencer answers, "We're from the United States. Pennsylvania, actually."

"Oh, Pennsylvania, that sounds magnificent," Belle comments. "So that's where you learned to speak English so well?"

"_Je parle fran__çais aussi_," Grace tells her quietly. "_Un peu._"

"_C'est bien! C'est bien!_" Belle says jovially. "Maybe you can come stay in the castle with me. Would you like that?"

Grace nods fiercely. Belle grins, "Oh, I'm sure the Beast wouldn't mind. We love to have visitors!"

She gives Grace a huge hug and poses for a picture before saying, "_Joyeux anniversaire __princesse __Grâce. __Je vous verrai __bientôt_!"

"How was that?" Spencer asks and Grace's face says it all.

"She's the best," She grins. "I love Belle."

It's dark when they leave the royal hall and Grace is beginning to show signs of exhaustion. She insists she's awake, however, and pleads to ride Big Thunder Mountain just once more before they depart. There's no line, though, so they ride it twice and bring their count up to the magic number eight. As they're strolling by the castle, the lights all but go out and magnificent fireworks start to burst through the sky. It's the perfect way to put an end cap on the night and Grace's tired eyes are saucers as they watch colors explode right before her eyes. She talks of nothing else but her magical day at Disneyland Paris as they exit the gates and falls asleep in Toby's arms minutes after they've boarded the metro towards home.

Spencer pushes the hair out of her daughter's eyes and chuckles. "She's drooling so hard on your shoulder right now."

"Trust me, I feel it," He grins. "She had a long day. A pretty successful one, too. I don't think any birthday will be able to top that."

"No, you can't get much better than Disneyland," Spencer comments and then sighs. "Can you believe she's five already?"

"Don't even go there," Toby shakes his head. "I don't know when she grew up, but I missed it."

"You blinked," Spencer tells him. "Didn't I warn you never to blink? Everything always goes by faster than you want it to."

"Isn't that the truth?" He states. "You think we should have another one?"

"I'm not opposed to it," She tells him. "We've never really talked about it before."

"Well think about it," He says. "She's starting kindergarten in the fall. Like it or not, our baby's gone."

"She'll always be our baby," Spencer disagrees. "But I see what you're saying. I miss when she was tiny and had that little squeaky voice, you know?"

"I miss going to get her out of the crib in the morning and finding her standing there waiting impatiently," Toby chuckles at the memory. "But every time you greeted her, she always got so excited and bounced up and down."

"I miss her little baby laugh," Spencer frowns. "It would be nice to have a little baby again."

"Grace is such a teenager already I think she'd be a good big sister."

"She is a great helper…"

Their eyes come to rest on their little girl before Spencer shakes her head, her senses coming back to her. "We are not making this important life decision on the metro."

"No, that would be ridiculous," He agrees. "But it's something to think about."

_Let them be little_, that old Billie Dean song preaches. _'Cause they're only that way for a while._ Somehow, their squealing little infant had turned five years old today. Toby and Spencer had never really thought about it before, but perhaps Billie Dean was on to something.


	20. don't make me face my generation alone

**Hey there! Help I skipped class this morning to sleep because senioritis lol. I can't do school anymore. I just can't. Two more days, two exams, one paper and then like a week of sitting here before graduation. Let the countdown begin, I guess. What an annoyance. Anyway, you know what isn't an annoyance? You guys and your amazing feedback. Seriously. You're all fabulous and I couldn't ask for anything more. Love y'all.**

**Today's chapter title comes from "All The Pretty Girls" by Fun. and once again I didn't time it right, because this song goes better with Saturday nights. Meh. Today will have to do. This chapter's more of a filler, but maybe you'll like it anyway? We'll see. Have a good Friday, y'all.  
**

* * *

please don't make me face my generation alone

At the end of January, the Cavanaugh family heads back to America, their time in France utterly complete. They had had the absolute time of their lives and fully live by the philosophy that _everyone_ should take a year off of their normal and boring lives to reside in Europe. They'd done more than they'd ever expected to; Spencer had achieved valuable research on ADHD, Grace's vocabulary and IQ had soared and the family had traveled everywhere they'd had a chance to. They even spent Christmas in the Canary Islands, sending their loved ones back home postcards with stories of their lazy days soaking up the sun. When they arrive home, they are jetlagged for a few days, but spend the recuperating time talking all about their extravagant year. Grace speaks French pretty fluently now and of course, rubs this in an envious Vivian's face at every opportunity.

Once they get their lives back together and adjust to living in Rosewood again, Spencer insists upon getting together with the girls because she has missed them terribly. The last Saturday in January, they do exactly that; Emily invites them to her house for the big reunion and not only are the four friends able to reconnect, but their children are, too. Grace seems a bit apprehensive at first, as though she's not quite sure how they're going to take her reappearance, but the second she's through Emily's front door, Brynn takes her hand and the two bound off into the living room where the others are waiting. It's as if they'd never been gone; the moms watch fondly from the kitchen as their four children play and giggle and goof around as if they'd been friends far longer than they actually had.

Spencer notes an absentee member and asks, "Hey Em, where's Ben?"

"He's upstairs," Emily sighs and Hanna smirks.

"Yeah, probably listening to screamo and writing slam poetry," She jokes and Spencer dons a look of confusion.

"What's his deal?"

"Who knows?" Emily frowns. "We've been trying to figure this out for weeks. He's been very moody lately; he's like a brooding teenager already and he's only four and a half!"

"If anything, I would've expected Harper to be the brooding teenager," Hanna comments and Aria scoffs.

"I resent that," She defends. "She's not even four!"

"So there's still time, then, is what you're saying?" Hanna grins and Aria laughs.

"Oh my god, I feel like I've missed everything," Spencer says. "You have to tell me everything that happened last year. Literally, everything."

"You missed everything because you were off riding vespas and eating gelato," Hanna says. "That's nothing to bat an eye at."

"We never rode vespas," Spencer tells her. "And we weren't in Italy. But okay."

"Anyway," Aria cuts off the blonde's retort. "Not much happened while you were gone, honestly. Harper turned three, now she's almost four. Jason got a new job, which is great for him but sucks for us because he's gone literally all the time. And my dad is retiring from Hollis and offered me his job, but I turned it down."

"Why?" Spencer questions. "You always said you'd love that job."

"Well she would if Merv the Perv wasn't still working there," Hanna puts in. "Can you imagine how awkward that would be?"

"Oh, Ezra's there?" Spencer implores in sympathy. "I'm sorry, that's awful. Didn't he get fired? Why would they give him his job back?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Aria says glumly. "So that's me. Em?"

"Everything's been good here too," She says. "The kids have been fighting a lot lately, but I think that's just Ben's new attitude. Brynn's very quiet and keeps to herself but the only person she isn't really like that with is Bennett, so when he blows her off she's not a fan. Paige is really great at dealing with his mood swings, though. I get really fed up after awhile, but she's oddly patient."

"Maybe there's just too much estrogen for him," Spencer says and Emily chuckles. "I'm serious! He's living with three girls; he probably could use a break every now and then."

"He gets his breaks, believe me," Emily replies. "He hangs out with his friends a lot and whenever they're at school, it's like we don't exist. Plus, he's really close with my dad, so… I don't know if that's it."

"Okay," Spencer lets it go. "And work's good?"

"Great," Emily smiles. "Sharks are still undefeated. Going on eight years!"

"Impressive!"

"Well, _my_ biggest drama happened a few months ago," Hanna begins. "I thought I was pregnant, but it was a false alarm. Dodged a bullet, there."

"No more kids for you and Caleb?"

"No way," Hanna shakes her head. "No. We are closed for business. One is hard enough; one was _painful_ enough. And it did things to my body that I still can't undo."

"What are you talking about?" Spencer laughs. "You look exactly the same as you always have!"

"Yeah, well," Hanna sighs. "We're still done. McKenzie's a handful. I love her to death, but she is so high maintenance."

Emily smirks. "I can't _imagine_ where she gets that from."

Hanna snatches a carrot from the veggie tray before them and chucks it in Emily's direction. "No comments from the walnut gallery."

"It's peanut gallery, Han," Aria smirks. "Close enough, I guess."

There's a peal of raucous laughter that draws all the girls' attention to the living room. All four of their daughters are giggling, hands clasped over their mouths or clutching their bellies, in on some joke that their mothers will never understand. Emily grins and says, "God I hope they stay like this forever. Not little, just… Happy. And innocent."

"And alive," Hanna adds and the other three shoot her a scandalized look. "What? Come on, we were all thinking it. I mean, after everything that happened with Ali."

"Yeah, I hope they never meet an Ali," Aria says and only after does she realize how insensitive it is. "I'm sorry, Em, I just mean-"

"No, I know what you mean. And I agree with you," Emily shakes her head. "Just because I loved her doesn't mean I didn't realize how terrible she was. To me, to all of us… If Brynn ever made a friend like that…"

"What if our girls ever… _became_ Ali?" Spencer fears. "I mean, how do you deal with that? That's part of the reason why she was so terrible; her parents had absolutely no idea what to do with her."

"Come on, our girls are better than that," Hanna disagrees.

Spencer says, "They're _preschoolers_. How could you possibly know that already?"

"Because," Hanna responds as though it were obvious. "I just know. I mean, just look at them."

The four girls are currently constructing one of those brightly colored plastic marble runs Brynn absolutely covets. There are about a hundred little pieces involved and it's as much of a struggle and maze as any difficult puzzle. McKenzie's lost interest and instead of helping the others build, she's batting the handful of silvery marbles back and forth on the floor. Harper, being the smallest, has her tiny hands around the two bases to hold it steady for the others. Grace is using the box as a form of directions and is instructing Brynn which pieces to put where. Brynn has to stand on her tiptoes to reach the very top but when she does, the entire maze comes together. The girls stand back and watch as McKenzie drops a marble in the top; it goes through the funnel, underneath the pinwheel, zigzags through some orange tubing and lands perfectly in one of Harper's bases. The girls cheer, high five and hug before tearing it apart and building a completely new one.

"Look at them," Hanna repeats. "They're like a little team."

"They're just like us, right?" Aria says. "I mean, McKenzie only gave Brynn pieces that color-coordinated with one another. Everything had to match perfectly. Plus she was, of course, ready with a dramatic finish."

"Guilty," Hanna chuckles. "Well how about Grace, being the little one in charge? The one looking at the box and telling the others what to do next?"

"She may have inherited that small quality from me," Spencer admits. "And Brynn, though? She was patient and never gave up even if it seemed like her plan wasn't going to go accordingly."

"I'll take it," Emily smiles. "But how about Harper? With her encouraging words, her support, her being the tiniest one?"

"Yeah, just like me," Aria laughs. "God, it's like looking into a mirror twenty years in the past."

"I hope they don't make the same mistakes we did," Emily says. "I don't think I can be as patient as my parents were."

"They won't," Hanna assures again. "I mean, they'll make mistakes, sure, but nothing like we did. Nothing will ever be that insane, right?"

"Well, I don't know about that," Spencer puts in. "For every quality of mine Grace got, she got one of Toby's too. She's got his heart especially; we all know how far Toby is willing to go for those he loves and I'll bet anything Grace will be the same way. I'm worried it might get her into trouble."

"Tell me about," Aria agrees. "Harper's only three and she's already got Jason's elusiveness. It drives me insane."

"Yeah, I guess you have a point," Hanna frowns. "McKenzie definitely got Caleb's sharp tongue and can talk her way out of anything. There's no way that's going to be a good thing, right?"

"Well, I don't know what the twins are going to be like," Emily says. "We met the birth parents twice, so… Guess we're in for a surprise."

"You might be lucky there," Spencer teases and Hanna agrees.

"Yeah, you realize all of your shitty qualities when you see them in your kid," Hanna tells her. "They'll do something or say something and you'll be like, 'Where in the world would they have gotten that from?'"

"And then you'll realize," Spencer adds. "It's something you've done or said at some point. And that moment really sucks."

"Yeah it does," Aria agrees. "But then there are other times where they'll say or do something so great and so amazing that you're just… in shock."

"That's true too," Hanna nods. "And it feels pretty great."

"It's always nice to know that you're raising a good person," Spencer says. "When they say something that confirms that…"

"… There's no greater feeling," Emily finishes. "I know."

The four girls watch their children play a little longer, delight in the funny things coming out of their mouths, and know that even though parenting is easily the hardest thing they've ever done, ever single minute of it, good and bad, is absolutely worth it.


	21. if you don't love me, pretend

**Alright moment of truth- first person to review this chapter gets to be my 100th reviewer lol. Just kidding it's not a race and I love you all equally, whether you're reviewing or not, whether you write me a paragraph or just a few words. Seriously. Your support means the absolute world to me so thank you all for being magnificent and spectacular. Ugh. I can't express my gratitude enough.**

**The chapter title comes from "A Drop in the Ocean" by Ron Pope, which is fairly mainstream amongst fandoms so you might know that already? I hope you all have a lovely Saturday and I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)  
**

* * *

if you don't love me, pretend a few more hours, then it's time to go

"I don't want to play with Vivian."

Spencer rolls her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"So sorry that you won't make me go?"

"No, you're still going," Spencer informs her and Grace huffs. "Grace, we are all going. Aunt Melissa invited us for dinner and we're all going to go."

"I'll eat dinner but I'm not playing with Vivian," Grace argues. "She's mean to me!"

"She isn't mean to you," Her mother disagrees. "Look, I know that Viv is kind of a brat. I know that. But it's not her fault she's like that."

Grace asks, "Whose fault is it?"

"That doesn't matter," Spencer says, unwilling to throw her niece's indulgent parents under the bus. "She's still your cousin and you're still supposed to love her."

"I do love her," Grace insists. "I just don't like her."

Spencer sighs. "Grace. On your best behavior. Please."

"I will if she will," She crosses her arms over her chest and then after a moment, adds, "Why doesn't daddy have to go?"

"Daddy does have to go," Spencer informs her, pulling into Wren and Melissa's driveway. "But he's still working. He's going to be a little late."

Grace unbuckles her seatbelt, saying, "I wish _I_ was going to be late."

Spencer bites her lip to combat her growing frustration. It's no secret that Vivian has turned into quite the little monster and honestly she can't blame Grace for not wanting to interact with her. But they're family; they're going to have to live with one another whether they like it or not. Wren answers the door, still buttoning his shirt, and grants the two of them entrance into their home. Spencer can already smell something amazing brewing in the kitchen. She has to hand it to Melissa; in her time of being Wren's devoted little housewife, she truly had learned to cook with all the savoir-faire of Julia Child. In a moment, Vivian is yanking Grace upstairs and into her room and Spencer does her best to ignore her daughter's death glare on the way up.

About twenty minutes later, however, she wants to take it all back. She and Melissa have fallen into easy conversation, but all of a sudden there's a crash from upstairs, pounding footsteps on the carpeted staircase, and Vivian's hysterical tears. "Mom! Mom, look what Grace did!"

"I'm sorry!" Grace's voice, just as hysterical but ultimately tearless, emanates a beat behind her cousin's. "It was an accident!"

Vivian's clutching a porcelain doll with a broken off arm and a face that's smashed to pieces. She cries, "Grace called me a brat! She threw my new doll and it broke! Look what she did!"

"She wouldn't let me play with them!" Grace defends. "I didn't mean to! It was an accident!"

Spencer's attention is everywhere at once, but lands directly on her sister when Melissa probes, "How could you let her do this?"

"_What?_" Spencer exclaims. "I'm sorry- are you kidding me? How is this my fault?"

"She's your daughter!" Melissa shoots back. "You have control over what she does, no one else."

Wren comes in, then, and notes the chaos. "What's wrong?"

"Dad, it's ruined!" Vivian sobs. "My new doll and Grace ruined it!"

"Let me see what I can do, love," He says, peeling her from her mother's grasp and leading her out of the room. "We'll fix it. You'll see."

Spencer's in shock, but somehow manages to turn to Grace and tell her, "Honey, go take a breather in the formal, please. Go."

Grace looks from her mother to her aunt before tearing out of the room. Spencer then whirls around on Melissa, saying, "I can't believe you have the _audacity_ to get angry with me over my parenting style when you have done nothing but enable Vivian towards this kind of behavior. I'm sorry, but I think it's ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous is that I thought maybe Grace might not turn into you," Melissa shouts back. "She's literally exactly like you; doing and saying hurtful things without even realizing it. You better nip it in the bud before it's too late."

"_I_ better nip it in the bud?" Spencer implores. "Are you serious? That's the pot calling the kettle black if I _ever_ saw it. The stupid doll-"

"Spencer, it's not about the stupid doll," Melissa says. "As usual, you're barking up the wrong tree. It's the name-calling. I mean, calling her a brat? I can't think of anywhere else she would have learned that from other than you."

Spencer hesitates. _Technically_ that's true. "Okay, that was an error in judgment and I shouldn't have said that to Grace. I was wrong, okay? But-"

"And it's not just that you said it to Grace," Melissa tells her. "It's that you _actually_ think that. Everyone has different parenting styles, Spencer, and you need to deal with that. You're supposed to be a role model for your daughter; you're supposed to lead by example and if Grace grows up thinking that what she does is right and everyone else is wrong-"

"You have a point," Spencer grits her teeth. "But please, hear me out! Vivian is learning that every time she pitches a fit, she gets what she wants. She _always_ gets what she wants; she never learned how to interact with other kids appropriately because she's been sheltered her whole life! I mean, you guys coddle her and cater to her and what does that tell her? That she'll always be on top no matter what? That she's the most important person in the world? Melissa, life isn't fair and she needs to realize that she can't always get what she wants. That's just the way the world is."

"I was trying to shelter her from that realization for as long as possible," Melissa counters.

"Maybe," Spencer replies. "But you're going about it the wrong way. Look, we're both wrong and Vivian and Grace both owe each other an apology. We might not agree on the parenting stuff but can we at least agree on that?"

Melissa nods. "Of course."

Meanwhile, Grace is pouting in the formal living room when Toby arrives after the blowout. He lets himself in and when he finds his daughter, he asks, "Hey monkey. Why the long face?"

"I'm in trouble," She says quietly.

Toby's eyebrows rise. "You are? What did you do?"

"I called Vivian a brat," Grace says and when Toby gives her a questioning look she elaborates. "She got these new dolls from her grandma and grandpa in England and they're really pretty. They have sparkly dresses and shiny hair and I wanted to play with them. But she wouldn't let me. She said they were special and only _she_ could play with them. She wasn't sharing, daddy! So I picked one up when she wasn't looking and she told me to put it down. I called her a brat for not sharing and she still told me to put it down. But I threw it instead and it hit the wall and broke. And now I'm in time-out, I think."

"Oh Grace," Toby sighs. "That was not the best way to handle that situation."

"I couldn't help it, daddy," She says. "I was _so_ mad!"

"I know," Toby pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. "But calling people names is not a nice thing to do. You know better than that."

Grace bites her lip. "Are you mad at me? I think mommy's mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you," Toby tells her sincerely. "And I doubt your mom's mad at you, but it sounds like you need to give Vivian an apology."

"What a coincidence," Spencer announces, coming down the hall. "That's what I've come to collect her for."

"Mommy, don't be mad," Grace says. "I'll say I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad," Spencer tells her. "I'm not. It's really my fault, anyway. I should not have said what I said about Vivian. A brat is really not a nice thing to call someone and it probably hurt Vivian's feelings."

"I should have known you were behind this," Toby rolls his eyes and Spencer shoots him a look. "Come on, where else would she have learned that word?"

"You, hush," Spencer commands and then takes Grace by the hand. "You, come with me."

Vivian apologizes and promises to share and Grace apologizes and vows not to partake in anymore name-calling. The two hug a bit stiltedly and then everyone sits down to a nice, albeit a bit tense, family dinner. Afterwards, the girls head back upstairs to play as though it never happened; Vivian's still a bit too insistent, Grace a bit too reluctant. Wren announces he'll clean and though Toby would rather gnaw his own arm off, he can sense the stewing sisters need to talk, so he tells Wren he'll join. Melissa is staring daggers at her glass of ice water and the tension is so think, it would take a butcher's knife to cut through it. But Spencer decides to break the ice because they're not kids anymore; they can't afford to act like them.

"I'm sorry," She says honestly. "I love Vivian; I really do. I think she'll be very successful in life because she knows what she wants and she'll do anything to get it."

"Thank you. I'm sorry too," Melissa smiles. "Grace is beautiful and I love her like my own. I'm sorry I said she was going to turn into you… I'm sorry I used it like an insult."

Spencer nods, but Melissa goes on, "I guess you just always kind of… intimidated me as a kid. You didn't give in to mom and dad's bullshit. You rebelled, you became your own person… I was envious of that."

"_You_ were envious of _me?_" Spencer nearly chokes. "Are you kidding?"

"No," Melissa disagrees. "I'm completely serious. My life was always easier than yours because I did what mom and dad told me to, but I always wondered if I was happy because of that or if I was just happy because _they_ were happy. I always wondered what it would be like to trade places with you."

"Believe me, I would've done it in a heartbeat," Spencer smirks. "But what does that have to do with Grace?"

"Because I've never seen her as a mini-you, you know?" Melissa answers. "Looks-wise, she's your carbon copy. But her personality just always struck me as being more like Toby than you. Every now and then, though, I'd see that Hastings fire come out of her. I saw it that day she came to work with Toby on our guesthouse and I saw it tonight. And I don't know why, but… It just scared me."

"Why?" Spencer pleads. "What is so wrong with me that my daughter can't be like me?"

"Spencer, you don't get it," Melissa shakes her head. "There is literally _nothing_ wrong with you. There never has been. That's not it."

"Then _what?_"

"You had a rough life, okay? You were in pain for about eighty percent of your childhood," Melissa explains. "And as your older sister, it hurt to see you suffer. You may not believe in hope, but you certainly believed in being other people's hope. And when you couldn't or when it became too much, it _killed_ you. By extension, it killed me. So when I see that in Grace, that same fiery passion you've always had, it just scares me because I don't want her to crumble the way you did. I don't want her to force herself to be everything for everyone like you did and end up… God knows where."

"Look, none of this is news to me," Spencer says. "You can stop worrying about her. Believe me, I worry enough for the both of us."

"I'm not worried," Melissa replies. "I know she's going to be fine. I'm just saying… I don't know. I see a strength and a resilience in her that I don't see in Vivian. I'm just wondering if that's because I was never like you."

Spencer stares at her a moment before saying, "I literally don't even know what to say to all of this."

"You don't have to say anything," Melissa shakes her head. "You're my sister and I love you. I love Grace too."

"I love you, too, Melissa. And I love Vivian," Spencer tells her. "That's not going to change."

"Good," The elder sister grins. "God, I always thought we were too messed up to make amends, but look at us."

"Well it's like dad always says," Spencer counters. "The only person who can knock a Hastings down is a Hastings."

Melissa pulls a face. "So the only person to pick us back up is a Hastings too, then?"

"I guess," Spencer considers. "I don't know. Dad's logic was always spotty at best. We're lucky we found people willing to deal with all of our baggage. I always just figured no one would want to put up with us and we'd end up alone."

"Sisters must share a connection," Melissa says. "Because I always thought the exact same thing."


	22. she brings me a cake

**Oh hey! How are we all doing on this fine Sunday morning? I decided I wanted to make pancakes this morning and I burnt every single one lol. I ate them anyway because, let's be real, they're still delicious. So hopefully you all had a fabulous day or evening or what have you. Here I am with another chapter for you. Only six left! But don't you worry- I've already begun the planning stage for my next project. ;)**

**The chapter title comes from "I Wanna Be The One" by Fun. The PLL Wikia says that Toby's birthday is March 19th, so I ran with it. Thank you all for continuing to be amazing and sticking by me through this fairly long story. It means a lot to me; I know you would all be there to defend me in the internet fight I almost got in yesterday over this story (don't believe me? check the reviews I got yesterday :P ). Thank you!  
**

* * *

she brings me a cake, we celebrate i have arrived

Very, very early on March 19th, Spencer wakes before the sun and tears herself purposefully away from the warm embrace of slumber. She crawls out of bed, sneaks out of the bedroom, and heads down the hall towards Grace's room all in darkness; the sun has not yet risen on this early spring Wednesday morning. Grace is on her stomach, one arm dangling off the side of her bed, and Spencer rests a hand on her back, kissing her forehead and jostling her a bit to awaken her. Her daughter yawns, rubs the sleep from her eyes and looks a bit confused for a moment before the morning's plan hits her. In a moment, she's elated and hops out of bed eagerly to follow her mother to the kitchen.

"Can you get a mixing bowl for me?" Spencer asks, reaching in the cabinet for the Bisquick and the bag of chocolate chips.

"Do we need a big one?" Grace asks and pulls out a relatively good size plastic bowl. "Is this good?"

"That's perfect," She grins. "Okay, we need two cups of the pancake mix. You washed your hands right?"

"Yup!"

"If I measure it, do you want to pour it out?"

"Yeah!" Grace exclaims, pulling herself onto the countertop and fulfilling her duties diligently the moment her mother hands her the measuring cup. "Can I pour the milk too?"

"Sure," Spencer agrees, retrieving the milk and eggs from the refrigerator. "We need a cup of milk, so I'm going to need that measuring cup back."

Grace pours the milk in as well, watching as it seeps into the craters of the pancake mix, and asks, "Can we put whipped cream on them too? And sprinkles?"

Spencer laughs. "Like a pancake sundae?"

"Yeah! Like a pancake sundae!"

"Why not?" Spencer allows. "It is a special occasion, after all."

Once the milk's been poured, it's time for the eggs and Grace eyes them hungrily. Spencer says, "You can crack them; I know you want to. But let me show you how."

She guides Grace's hands first, instructing, "Hit it against the side of the bowl, hard enough to break it, but not too hard. You don't want any shells in there. Good, just like that. Now, put your thumbs right in the hole- good. And now gently, pull the pieces apart."

They pull the two halves of the shell ever so slowly, but eventually the egg slides into the bowl. Grace beams and shouts, "I did it!"

"You did!" Spencer hands her another one. "You think you can do this one yourself?"

"Uh huh," Grace nods and follows Spencer's directions sinuously. The second egg drops into the mixture just as fluidly as the first.

"Wow," Spencer admires. "That was great!"

"I'm a fast learner," Grace says and Spencer has a moment of nostalgia.

She whisks the ingredients together and forms three pancakes on the hot griddle before her. Grace watches from afar, not allowed near the stove, and when the time comes, Spencer lifts her over the griddle so she can drop a handful of chocolate chips into each of the pancakes. They grow hot and brown and when they're ready, Spencer flips them onto a plate and lets Grace go wild with maple syrup, whipped cream and sprinkles. Placing the plate on top of a tray along with a glass of juice, a handful of napkins and silverware, the two ladies head upstairs to the remaining member of their family. Grace opens the door and bounds across the floor, hopping on top of the bed.

"Daddy!" She calls and Toby shifts a bit at the interruption to his slumber. "Daddy, wake up!"

Toby sits up slowly, glancing from his wife to his daughter in confusion. "What is going on?"

"Happy birthday daddy!" Grace bounces up and down and launches herself into his arms. "We made you breakfast!"

He hugs her back, kissing her cheek. "You did?"

"Yeah, let's see if you can find it under all this… decoration," Spencer puts in, presenting him with the mountain of whipped cream and sprinkles that held his pancakes hostage somewhere underneath.

"This is great," Toby grins. "You did this, Gracie?"

"She did," Spencer nods. "I was just the spatula."

"I did it all," Grace confirms. "I even cracked the eggs!"

"Wow," Toby expresses in awe. "That is just about one of the greatest birthday presents ever."

"Wait daddy, I have a better one," Grace says. "I got you a real present. Mommy helped me wrap it."

Toby laughs. "Well I'm sure I'll love that too."

She hugs him again and Spencer suggests, "Gracie, can you go get dressed, please? We've got to get you ready for school."

"And then I get pancakes too, right?"

"Of course," Her mother promises. "For all your hard work? Definitely."

Grace hops off the bed and scurries down the hall as Toby eyes the gluttonous mountain of sugar on his plate. "I'm not sure I'll be able to eat this without going into a diabetic coma."

"I figured it was a special occasion, so I just let her go for it," Spencer explains. "She really enjoyed herself."

"I can tell," He grins. "Thank you for this, though. Seriously. You didn't have to do all this."

"Are you kidding? I'm just warming up," Spencer informs him. "Since someone decided to work on his birthday-"

"It's just another day, Spencer."

"- we will be celebrating when you get back," She says. "And it is _not_ just another day. It's not everyday that you turn-"

"Please don't say it."

"- the big 3-0," She grins. "You hit thirty, Toby, how does it feel?"

"It feels the same as twenty-nine," He admits. "And twenty-eight, and twenty-seven…"

"I wouldn't know," Spencer says, mocking him. "I'm still in my twenties, so-"

He tosses a pillow in her direction but she dodges him. He should've known; reflexes like a cat and all that. Toby smirks and asks, a bit nervously, "What does this 'celebrating' entail?"

"Well, I've rented out the club and invited all our friends and family," Spencer says, sitting beside him on the bed. "There'll be a good hundred or so people there, I think? The party's going to be big; also, it's formal, so black ties and cocktail dresses, obviously. There's a sit down dinner and it's catered by the same place that did my parents' anniversary that one year; we _love_ them. There might be a presentation of some sort dedicated to you. I mean it's a pretty important birthday; I want to commemorate it…"

With every detail, Toby's face melts more and more into an expression of horror. Spencer laughs and says, "I'm just kidding."

He sighs in relief. "Oh thank god."

"Toby, I know you," Spencer tells him. "We've been together for _years_. You think I don't know by now that you're not a party person?"

"I don't know," He shrugs. "I thought maybe you'd do it anyway because it's a 'special occasion'."

"I'm not putting you in a situation that makes you uncomfortable," She disagrees. "Especially on your birthday."

"So what _are_ your plans?"

"Now _that_ I am not telling you," She refuses. "You will find out later this evening."

"Fine, I'll just shake it out of Grace."

"You will not, because Grace doesn't know."

"Grace doesn't know?"

"Grace isn't invited."

Toby's eyes widen. "Oh, so it's _that_ kind of celebration. I'm starting to like it a little bit more now."

"Just you wait," Spencer grins. "Okay, I have to go make breakfast for Grace and get ready for work. You enjoy your pancakes. Also, you need to be onsite in like a half hour so I'd enjoy them fast."

She stands, but at the last moment, sinks beside him one last time. "Oh before I forget."

She closes the distance between them and firmly presses her lips against his, to which he responds eagerly, tossing the plate of breakfast aside and instead weaving his hands in her hair and pulling her closer. Her hands slip beneath his shirt, traveling tantalizingly slowly upwards and across the rigid plain of his stomach. She drags them down again, her nails just scratching the surface of his skin in that way she knows drives him wild. He pulls her closer still, because he simply can never get enough of her, and he could receive all the gifts in the world and still, nothing would ever compare. Spencer resists a bit, pulling back from their embrace before it gets too heated, before they go somewhere from which they cannot return.

"Happy birthday, Toby."

"Thank you," He responds, a bit flustered. "What was that?"

"A little preview," She says cheekily. She almost _never_ acts like this and it turns him on so greatly, he almost laments when she stands to leave the room. "I am going to go get ready."

"Now?" He asks, a bit disappointed.

"Yeah, I have to be at work in an hour," She nods. "You're already running late, Toby. And to think what we could've gotten ourselves into had we both taken the day off…"

Spencer heads down the hall and Toby considers this before calling after her, "Birthdays come but once a year, right? I can take a sick day!"

Spencer's laugh emanates throughout the house and fills Toby's soul to the brim with joy. He's not sure what to expect of tonight. He knows it will be a night to remember, but every night with her always is.


	23. you can never look back

**Hello and happy Monday! Yeah, usually "happy" and "Monday" don't go well together, BUT it's my final week of school so I'm happy. Tomorrow's my last day of school ever. Like ever. It's my _last_ last day of school. Crazy. Anyway, hopefully today is finding you well. I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter! I thought it was kind of weak, personally, but of course, I am my toughest critic. I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again. I hope you like this chapter, too! It's about two of my favorite things- Sundays and brunch. Too bad today's Monday. I could use a Sunday brunch.**

**Today's chapter title comes from "Carry On" by Fun. which is kinda sorta mainstream, so maybe you know it? Hopefully you enjoy the chapter; definitely let me know if you didn't. Also side-note to SpobyFicStalker- this isn't the chapter I was talking about when I said "stay tuned" after you mentioned Wren. That's coming tomorrow. ;)  
**

* * *

i've closed enough windows to know you can never look back

The air is thick with tension one muggy April evening as Spencer and Toby climb into bed, avoiding eye contact. They switch off the lights and are bathed in darkness when Toby sighs and says, "I don't want to fight anymore."

"Why not? We've been fighting all day," Spencer's voice is dripping with surliness. "I can tell you're not done so you might as well get it off your chest."

"I don't want to go to brunch with your family tomorrow," He admits and Spencer scoffs. "I hate going to brunch with them and this isn't a Jane Austen novel. We don't need these monthly reunions when we all live in the same town."

"Toby, they're working all the time," Spencer counteracts. "They never see Grace, she never sees them. I would like her to actually have a relationship with her family."

"Okay, well whose fault is that?" He questions. "Wren's a doctor, so whatever, but you and I both know your parents _choose_ to put in those hectic hours. They've been building towards retirement for a while and yet they still haven't taken it. I wish I could say I was surprised but…"

"What?" Spencer probes when he hesitates. "Just say it. You know you want to."

"They didn't pay enough attention to you or Melissa," Toby blurts out, blinded by the irritation. "What makes you think things will be different for Vivian and Grace?"

It may be dark, but Toby can still see Spencer's eyes glowing with anger. He frowns, "Don't look at me like that. You _know_ that's not what I meant. I'm just saying-"

"I know what you're saying," She seethes. "You think my parents don't give a shit about me or my sister and that we're fucked up because of it."

"No I don't," Toby sighs. "I don't think either of you are fucked up and I _know_ your parents love you both. But you have to see where I'm coming from, Spencer. You spent your teenage years afraid to be _in your own house_ because your parents weren't home to protect you. They love you; I know they do. But they put their jobs before you _a lot_."

She's silent a while and Toby's honestly not sure how to take it. It isn't until a moment later, when she lifts a hand to her eyes that he feels like an unimaginable bastard. He _hates_ to see her cry, but he hates it even more when he's the cause of it. "Don't cry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."

"You didn't," She deflects. "It's not about you. I just… I don't want to fight anymore."

"Neither do I," He agrees, pulling her into his arms as her own snake around him. "I never want to fight."

"I hate it," She mumbles. "I don't like making you angry and if it's going to make you angry if we go to brunch tomorrow, then we shouldn't go. We don't have to if you don't want to."

"It's not that it's going to make me angry," He tells her. "It's just that I literally have nothing to contribute to the conversation."

She shakes her head. "That's not true."

"Yeah, it is," Toby informs her. "Your dad and Wren talk all about law and medicine like they're the only respectable professions in the world and are the keys to becoming masters of the universe. You and your mom and Melissa are always knee-deep in whatever family drama goes on in the Hastings' world behind closed doors. And then there's me, sitting there like Feste the Fool, because who am I supposed to talk to, the girls? They're too busy comparing plastic jewelry and catching each other up on what happened on this week's _Mickey Mouse Clubhouse_!"

Spencer can't help herself; she bursts into laughter. Toby doesn't get nearly enough credit for his wit, but he's not amused. "Why are you laughing at me? I'm totally serious."

"You are and I'm sorry," She grins. "But you are on _point _with your literary references this evening. First Jane Austen and then Shakespeare? Fitz would be proud."

"I wouldn't know," He says. "I didn't last long enough to have Humbert Humbert as my English teacher."

"Three for three!" Spencer beams. "I think that you might be overreacting just a tad, though."

"I really don't think so."

"I do," She replies. "Look, my family loves you. It took them longer than I would have liked, but they got there. Your thoughts and opinions are valued, trust me. I bet you could say anything and they would be fine with it."

"Not anything," He teases. "There's plenty I could say that they wouldn't approve of and all of it has to do with your brother-in-law."

"My?"

"Your," He says with finality. "I'm not claiming ownership to him."

She smirks. "Will you two ever let it go?"

"I don't know. Will he ever stop looking at you like you're the one that got away?" Toby counters and Spencer has to give him that one. "He's ridiculous. And you know what else is ridiculous?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"Melissa is none the wiser," Toby answers. "How can she not know?"

"She knows," Spencer says. "She knows the answer to your question before you even ask it. There's no way she doesn't notice Wren's wandering eye."

"Well then she does a damn good job of ignoring it."

"Yeah, so do I," Spencer comments. "You should try it sometime."

Toby frowns. "We'll see."

The following morning, the three of them are on their way to Sunday brunch at the Craftsman House on the far edge of town. Peter claims they have the best French toast in the entire country and this is what justifies the almost half-hour drive away from civilization. Spencer wonders if the other reason why Toby hates it so much is because of how formal everything is. He's not a jacket and tie kind of guy and he wouldn't be caught _dead_ in a country club, which is part of the reason she loves him so much. He doesn't care about those things, but unfortunately the Craftsman House requests its guests to don their Sunday best. When they're seated and they've ordered, the women fall into easy conversation and Wren begins his overshadowing nonsense.

"So my colleague has this woman on his table; massive hemorrhaging, internal bleeding, all that. She, of course, perishes," He explains, pausing to sip from his steaming mug of coffee. "Meanwhile, her husband's out in the waiting room pacing and when my coworker informs him of his wife's passing, he breaks down and says she was pregnant."

"Brutal," Peter comments. "Sounds like a liability lawsuit is coming his way."

Toby shoots Spencer a pointed look and she sends back one of sympathy. Just when he's considering jabbing his fork into his eye, Peter asks, "So Toby, how's business been since you've been back? You're keeping busy, I hope?"

"Yeah, for the most part," He nods, a bit startled at his sudden inclusion. "I've been doing a lot of deskwork lately; you know, answering phone calls and filing request forms. But I've also been involved in putting an addition on a house on Fairmount Street, so that's been great."

"Oh really? Which house?" Peter asks, intrigued. "I've got a buddy that lives down there."

"Uh, it's 64, I think?" Toby replies. "The Montagues."

"Yeah, that's him!" Peter notes. "Tim and I work together and listen, don't let him skimp on the payments. He might play the elusive card but he and his wife vacation for weeks at a time in the Keys. They own a place down there; it's worth over five million dollars. He's rolling in it; his wife's always wearing a new diamond somewhere."

"Oh yeah, I met her the other day," Toby agrees. "Paula, her name was? She was nice; she brought us drinks."

"No," Peter chuckles. "His wife's name is Kelly. You must've met the mistress."

Toby's eyes widen. "Really?"

"Oh yeah," He grins. "And I wouldn't be surprised if this Paula isn't the only one. Tim doesn't like to keep all his eggs in one basket, if you know what I mean."

"Wow," Toby remarks. "That's not what I expected."

"Neither is half the town," Peter states. "And you saw the car, right?"

"The Jaguar?" Toby references. "Couldn't miss it. He was waxing it the entire time we were there to show it off."

"Yeah, it hasn't run in _years_ and he can't get it to," Peter laughs. "Engine's absolutely shot, but does that matter to Tim? No sir; he still acts as though it's his most prized possession."

Toby hesitates a moment before asking, "Isn't he your friend?"

"Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Because you're enjoying ripping into him a bit too much."

"It's good fun," Peter responds. "Plus, he screwed me out of clients far too many times to count. He's a great guy to play tennis with, but he's not exactly the person I'd want to spend all of my time with, you know?"

Their food arrives just moments later and Wren uses this distraction to try and turn the conversation back in his favor. It doesn't work. Peter instead spends the rest of the meal asking Toby questions about every aspect of his life and Spencer watches from afar in awe. Her parents had accepted and grown to love Toby years ago, but never had her father ever given a conscious effort to get to know him. She could see the surprise in Toby's eyes as well; the shock is all over his face. And call her crazy, but is that envy emanating from Wren's? When their meal is finished and the bills have been paid, the family bids farewell and begins to depart the restaurant. Spencer catches her father's arm and holds him back.

"Dad, thank you for what you did today," She expresses sincerely. "With Toby. These kinds of situations make him kind of uncomfortable, but you were really great."

Peter shrugs as though it's not a huge deal. "He's really great, Spencer."

"I know that," She replies. "I've always known that, remember? It was you that took forever to realize it."

"No man is ever good enough for your little girl, Spencer. You're going to realize that soon, with Grace," Peter tells her, smiling. "But Toby comes _damn_ close."


	24. you stayed the same

**Hello everyone! Happy last day of undergrad! Oh, is that just me? Sorry. Then happy Tuesday to all of you. Hopefully it's not a bad one. Thanks for reviewing and reading the last chapter. I'm glad you enjoyed Sunday brunch with the Hastings', even if Toby didn't lol. Four chapters left, not including this one; we'll be done by the end of the week. ;) The chapter title comes from "Benson Hedges" by Fun. Hold on to your hats and sunglasses, friends, because there's about to be a showdown up in this bitch.  
**

* * *

you're beautiful, for all your big mistakes, you stayed the same

It's mid-July and the day burns as hot as a furnace. It had come out of nowhere, really; May had been rainy and cool and June had been balmy, breezy and pleasant. As though the devil himself had flipped a switch, July had come in with blazing sunshine and skin-baking humidity. However despite the unbearable heat, Toby and Spencer had promised to take Grace to the lake. As much as they'd like to reschedule for a day that didn't fry their insides like eggs, they decide against it. They'd both been extremely busy lately, Grace had been spending her days at KinderCamp and honestly they could really use the family time. So, they pack a picnic lunch, some beach towels and an umbrella, slather on sunscreen and head to the lake.

Unfortunately, they're not the only family with this idea.

It isn't until they've settled in the sand that they hear Vivian's unmistakable voice, Wren and Melissa arm in arm behind her. Grace's excitement wanes significantly, but she tries her hardest not to let it show, remembering the porcelain doll incident a few months prior. She reluctantly shares her sandcastle tools as Vivian expresses interest in them and the two passive-aggressively build a pretty stellar castle, with a moat and drawbridge and all. Melissa, too, expresses her passive-aggressiveness through envy. She side-eyes Spencer and claims she wouldn't be caught dead in a bikini; not at her age, not after having a child. Spencer rolls her eyes and informs her sister that she looks fine; no, better, actually, since she'd become a mother. Toby watches their sisterly banter from beside his wife observingly at first, but something catches his attention shortly thereafter.

Wren's eyes are lingering far too closely and for far too long on Spencer's scantily clad body for his liking. He's smiling wistfully and Toby doesn't have to venture a guess as to where his mind is; it's all over his face. Maybe it's the intense summer heat fueling his aggression or maybe this time Wren's just gone too far; maybe today is the final straw. But whatever the reason, Toby jumps up from his lounge chair and announces, "I'm going to hit the snack stand, maybe get Grace a Popsicle. Wren, you want to come?"

He may have phrased it like a question, but it's really more of an order. Thankfully, the smug Brit realizes this and nods affirmatively. "Yeah, sure. Vivian loves those things. Come on, then."

They trod purposefully towards the snack stand, but before they can join the line, Toby pulls his counterpart aside. Wren eyes him nonchalantly. "What's wrong?"

"You need to stop," Toby warns him. "You think you're being subtle, but everyone notices and I can't have you acting like that in front of my daughter."

Wren stares back, indignant. "I have no idea what you're talking about, mate."

"Oh I think you do," Toby disagrees. "Look, I've tried _so_ hard to ignore the way you look at her- the way you _talk_ to her, even- but it's gone on long enough. Stop objectifying my wife. For God's sake, Wren, you're married to her _sister_. Try having a little tact."

"I don't know what you're on about," Wren insists, a bit more irate. "I love Melissa."

"I'm not doubting that," Toby says. "I know that you two are perfectly content. But I also know that, given the choice, you would trade with me in a heartbeat and that is sick. I will never understand why Melissa ever took you back, knowing that, but that's your business. Leave Spencer out of it."

"I can't help the way I feel, mate," Wren tells him, his eyes narrowing. "You aren't about to tell me my feelings are wrong, are you?"

"Yes I am," Toby replies. "When you're feeling these things about your sister-in-law? Your _married _sister-in-law? Yeah, it's wrong."

Wren shakes his head. "You don't know the half of it. You have no idea what went on between us back then."

"No, I do," Toby says. "She told me everything. Just because you two kissed a couple of times doesn't make you soul mates. It only makes you as bad as her English teacher."

Wren rolls his eyes. "She wanted it as much as I did, mate."

"Maybe, back then," Toby says. "But that was a long time ago. She's moved on. I'm not going to say I'm sorry she didn't choose you, because I'm not sorry at all. But I am going to tell you to get over yourself and to stop making yourself look like a jackass in front of your family."

Wren's visage says it all, but before he can express his irritation in words, Spencer appears by Toby's side to ask, "Hey, Grace and Viv heard about Popsicles and now it's all they can talk about. I came to see what was taking so long."

"We didn't get a chance to get them yet," Toby informs her gently. "We were too busy having a much-needed talk."

"What about?" Spencer asks warily and Wren easily fields this.

"He was marking his territory," He says swiftly. "You see I thought it was 'look but don't touch,' and now apparently I can't even look."

Toby frowns. "That's not at all how the conversation went."

Spencer purses her lips, unsure of what to say at first. She tells Toby, "Seriously, your daughter's going to have a coronary. You want to take care of that? I just need a minute with Wren."

Toby would much rather walk across a bed of nails than leave her alone with him, but he nods and turns away, granting her wish. Wren is giving her a look of satisfaction, the one he always gives her, as though she would realize eventually that _he_ was her real knight in shining armor, her real prince, and they would ride off into the sunset together and never look back. What Wren fails to realize, however, is that they are not on the same page; they're not even reading the same story. He might be stuck in the middle of his, but he'll never get to the end, not on the path he's going. Spencer's already got everything she wants; Spencer already has her happily ever after.

"Stop looking at me like that," She demands but he does nothing to wipe the smug grin off his face.

"It's amusing, that's all," Wren defends. "He gets much too bent out of shape over the most trivial things."

"It's not trivial, Wren, it's pathetic," Spencer says. "Think about Melissa. Think about Vivian. Think about what it's _doing_ to them. Do you even care?"

"How dare you say that," Wren accuses. "They're my _family_. I would do anything for them."

"Then _stop_," Spencer insists. "God, I told you a long time ago that you're the only boyfriend of my sister's I've ever liked, but I think I might've spoken too soon. She could do better."

"And so could you," Wren nods towards the snack stand where Toby's finally acquired his daughter's sweet frozen treat. "I'm not talking about myself or anything, but you could do better than the carpenter."

"For the last time, his name is _Toby_. Not calling him by his name is not going to make him go away; it's not going to make him insignificant," Spencer seethes. "And for the record, I really don't care what you think. You have this delusional teenage dream that we belong together, but you really don't know me at all."

"Spencer-"

"Does it look like I'm finished?" Spencer cuts him off. "There is _no one_ in the world who would do for me what Toby has. He is loving and dedicated and kind and I cannot picture my life without him. He's an amazing father, he's an amazing husband and, honestly, he's made me happier than I've ever been in my entire life. Toby has been with me through everything; good, bad, all of it. I love him more than I ever thought was possible, so it doesn't matter how you feel, Wren. It doesn't matter what you're thinking or what you want; it doesn't _matter_. Because it's _always_ going to be Toby; _always._ It always has been, it always will be. And if you can't see that, you're as delusional as you are immature."

Toby approaches slowly; no doubt, he's heard the whole thing. Spencer steps back, dignified, and closes with, "Now, if you'll excuse me, my _husband_ and I are going to enjoy the lake."

They leave Wren behind and Toby snakes an arm around her waist, saying, "Why did I ever think I needed to fight that battle for you?"

"Because you underestimate me," Spencer smirks. "You forget that I've been dealing with Wren longer than you have."

"Maybe," Toby tells her. "But at least you don't have to deal with him eyeing and drooling over the person you love."

"Well, maybe now you won't have to, either, given our little chat," She tells him and then pauses a bit, saying, "I'm really sorry."

He pulls a face. "For what?"

"For Wren!"

"Spencer," He smiles. "You're not his keeper. _He_ should be the one apologizing."

"I know, but we don't have a chance in hell of that happening," She says. "And you wouldn't have to deal with him if it wasn't for me. You, unfortunately, married my family, too, when you married me and I know that's not what you signed up for."

Toby frowns. "Come on, you know I don't fault you for that. If it weren't Wren, it would be some other guy. You're the most amazing woman I know; who _wouldn't_ want you?"

Spencer smiles slowly and says, "Someone else might be less upfront about it."

"Maybe it's a British thing," Toby shrugs and Spencer laughs.

"Yeah, those British guys," She agrees playfully. "They're not all they're cracked up to be."


	25. i've been there a thousand times

**Hello friends! Happy 10th anniversary of Mean Girls! If you're not wearing pink today, please feel free to vacate the planet. ;) Thank you for all of your kind words on the last chapter! They made me so happy. It's like a dream of mine that Toby and Wren face off. Like for serious. Anyway, thanks for the reviews, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter too! We've been having internet issues in my apartment so I'm going to go before it cuts out again haha.**

**The chapter title comes from "Be Calm" by Fun. Great song and a great message, if you're looking for a pick-me-up. Okay you're all fabulous and wonderful, bye.  
**

* * *

take it from me, i've been there a thousand times

Sometime in late August, the television remote goes missing. One day it's there, resting in its place on the coffee table, and the next day it's not. The August heat and lazy summer days keep the Cavanaugh family from watching a lot of television anyway; they're far too busy spending days at the lake and nights under the glistening evening stars. This is, of course, how the missing remote goes unnoticed for so long. But one day, the humidity causes a massive thunderstorm that keeps the family indoors on a Saturday they would have spent elsewhere. Thus, when Toby suggests they order in and watch a movie, everyone's all for it. Chinese is on its way and the family settles down, most likely to argue over what to watch. However, when Toby reaches for the remote, there is no remote.

"Hey, where's the TV remote?" Toby calls out to Spencer, who had just shut the front door on the onslaught of rain, her arms full of steaming food.

She shrugs. "I couldn't tell you. I can't even remember the last time I watched TV."

"Grace," Toby then asks. "Have you seen the remote?"

Grace shakes her head in silence. Toby eyes her. "Are you _sure_?"

"Yes," She says, her voice small. "I didn't watch TV today."

"Did you watch it yesterday?"

She shakes her head. Toby frowns. "This makes no sense."

"Well, it's probably around here somewhere," Spencer counters. "Check the end tables or the drawers in the entertainment center. It didn't just disappear."

They do exactly that; Chinese food all but forgotten, the three search under the couch and arm chairs, behind pillows and under blankets. They paw through the drawers of the entertainment center and check behind the television, just in case. There's nothing but dust inside the end tables and Spencer vows to attack it later. They never find the remote; it may just as well have disappeared and thus, they must enjoy their movie the old fashioned way- by pressing the buttons on the box like true pioneers. It's fine and it's totally not a big deal, but they are left with the lingering question of where in the world the remote could possibly be. It isn't like it grew legs and walked out of the house; there are only so many places it could be located.

The next day, while Grace is enjoying a play date at McKenzie's, Spencer is making use of the somewhat empty house to do some cleaning. She does dust the bowels of the end tables, as well as clean all the bathrooms, the kitchen and her and Toby's bedroom. She's putting a load of clean laundry away in Grace's dresser when she notes a sweatshirt of hers is awkwardly rolled into a ball in the bottom drawer. Spencer is too much of a perfectionist to let this go, so she plucks it from the drawer to refold and when she does, something hard falls from the middle of the cloth. Abandoning the sweatshirt for now, she kneels to the floor to pick up the object and finds that, lo and behold, it's the missing TV remote. The rubber buttons are covered in a sticky pink substance Spencer recognizes as silly putty.

"What do I do?" Spencer asks after she's brought this latest transgression to Toby.

"Confront her," He suggests. "You've got to let her know we know."

"Toby," She frowns. "She lied. To both of us."

"Yeah, she did," He agrees. "I had a feeling something wasn't right. She was way too quiet when we asked her if she knew anything."

"I know. I noticed that too," Spencer sighs. "I guess I just hoped that she'd prove me wrong."

When Grace returns home about an hour or so later, she bounds up to her room excitedly and Spencer frowns, heading up after her. She's not sure why she's dreading this conversation so much until the reason blatantly makes itself apparent. Grace _lied_; Spencer spent the entire second half of her adolescence lying to everyone she knew and here her daughter is, following in her footsteps. Like mother, like daughter, right? She knocks on Grace's door, even though it's open, and finds her daughter combing a doll's hair. She glances up and grins when her mother enters the room and Spencer only sits beside her on the bed. There's silence between them at first before Spencer takes a deep breath and asks,

"Do you know what I did today?"

Grace shakes her head, so Spencer continues, "I got a lot of cleaning done. I did a lot of housework. Some of that housework meant doing laundry; _your_ laundry."

"Thank you," Grace says and Spencer smiles a bit.

"Don't thank me yet," She warns. "Guess what I found in your drawer while I was putting laundry away?"

Grace's smile fades. "What?"

"Why don't you tell me?"

She looks away, avoiding her mother's gaze. "The TV remote."

"Bingo," Spencer confirms. "Now do you want to tell me why it was in your drawer when you said you hadn't seen it?"

Grace still doesn't look at her mother and her voice is quiet when she explicates, "I was playing with the silly putty even though you said I couldn't. When you put it on paper, all the words come off on the silly putty so I wanted to see if I put it on the numbers on the remote, if the numbers would come off too. But when I put it on the remote, I couldn't get it off. It was stuck there and… I didn't want you and daddy to be mad at me so I just hid it."

Spencer's honestly not surprised. Grace's rationale for doing things is always because she doesn't want to make her parents mad. She asks calmly, "Grace, do you see what you did wrong, here?"

She nods fiercely and questions, "Are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you because of the remote. We can buy a new one," Spencer tells her. "I'm mad because you lied to me. We asked you if you had seen it and you said you hadn't. Do you know that lying is bad?"

Grace nods again and Spencer then implores, "Do you know _why_ lying is bad?"

When her daughter hesitates, Spencer elaborates. "There is a very important thing in every relationship called trust. That means that you can believe that someone is telling the truth and that you can count on that person to be there for you when you need him or her to be. But when you lie, it makes it very hard to trust someone after that, because you never know if that person is being honest with you again. They could be telling you the truth, but you might not believe them, because they lied to you once and that's all you remember. Do you understand?"

Grace nods a third time, her eyes growing wet. Spencer continues, "Lying hurts people's feelings. It makes them upset. It's not a good thing to do, Gracie, and it could really get you into trouble. And I don't want to see that."

"Okay," Her voice is even smaller than before.

"I really want you to think about it, Grace," Spencer tells her, standing to leave the room. "Think about what you did wrong and think about what you could've done instead."

"I'm sorry," Grace pleads. "I'm sorry I lied, mommy."

"I know you are," Spencer kisses the very top of her head. "I don't want to see you do it again, okay?"

The five-year-old agrees and Spencer leaves the room to find Toby eavesdropping from the hallway. She shuts Grace's bedroom door behind her and her composure nearly crumbles. "Oh my god. Oh my god. I'm a terrible person. That is the worst thing I've ever done. Oh my god."

"Spencer," Toby says soothingly, his hands bracing her shoulders. "What are you talking about? You taught her a lesson she needed to learn!"

"No, I'm such a hypocrite," She shakes her head. "Here I am, the biggest liar in the _world_, telling my daughter lying is a terrible thing to do. I mean, who does that? If she only knew my history, she'd be laughing in my face. Just wait until she's a teenager; I won't be able to live it down."

"You're not a hypocrite," Toby disagrees and when she shoots him a skeptical look, he backs up his previous statement. "You're not! Look, you're teaching our daughter that lying is bad, which it is. Just because you've lied in the past doesn't mean you're a terrible person. You're not a terrible person, Spence. You lied because you had to."

"I only lied because I had to _after_ I lied in the first place," Spencer corrects. "If I hadn't… The first big lie I ever told was about Jenna and if I had told the truth… Maybe it would've saved us both a lot of trouble."

"I can almost guarantee that isn't true," Toby's eyes darken slightly at the mention of Jenna and the horrors he'd endured because of her. "You think all of that stuff with A wouldn't have happened? You think Alison wouldn't have gone into hiding and Mona wouldn't have terrorized you and you wouldn't have gone through hell if you hadn't told _one_ lie? I'm sorry, but there's no way that's true."

Spencer sighs. "Well, we'll never know for sure, will we?"

"No," He agrees. "Look, I understand why you're feeling the way you are and it is slightly justified."

"See?"

"But," Toby goes on. "People are going to lie. That's a given and that's never going to change. Grace is going to lie again; that's just the way kids are. She may have said she won't, but she will."

"How is this supposed to make me feel better?"

"Because," He insists. "She knows it's bad. That's the main point. Along the way, you and Alison and the other girls lied so much it became second nature. You forgot how damaging it was. And you were reminded- quickly and usually in the worst ways possible. But as long as Grace knows lying is not a good thing, she'll be okay. She'll have a conscience and she'll have to let it guide her. We can't control her thoughts or her actions, but we can control her morals. She's going to grow up knowing lying is bad, regardless of whether she does it or not. My kid will not- _will not_- be another Alison DiLaurentis."

Spencer smiles a bit. "The world would probably implode if there were two of them, anyway."


	26. i'll stand by my belief

**Hello friends! How are we all doing on this fine Thursday? I've been out of school approximately two days and I'm already bored. Graduation, come faster! Blegh. Anyway! Three chapters left, including this one, and this one is the reason this story exists, to be honest. I had this idea like a month or two ago and was like, "How could I build a story around that, because I don't think it's strong enough to stand alone." And here we are.**

**The chapter title comes from "Belief" by Gavin DeGraw, which is a beautiful song and I recommend it greatly. Actually, I recommend all of the songs I've used because let's be real, they're amazing and I wouldn't have used them if they weren't. Thanks for your feedback and I hope you enjoy this one! :)  
**

* * *

oh, you stood by me and i'll stand by my belief

Summer wanes inevitably into fall and September brings a slew of new beginnings. Grace starts kindergarten and, to no one's surprise, absolutely loves it. She comes home everyday with a new fact she'd learned and a story to tell. Her teacher makes gracious commentary on all her papers, so Toby _is_ surprised when one late September afternoon, he gets a call from Rosewood Elementary. He's operating the table saw when it comes through, so the ringing of his cell phone is drowned out by the buzzing and spitting of wood. When he concludes, he just barely catches the call on time and, chancing a glance at his coworkers, answers. He isn't technically supposed to take calls on the job, but it's a number he at first does not recognize, which immediately alarms him.

"_Hello. I'm trying to reach Toby Cavanaugh_."

"This is," Toby affirms.

"_Oh, hello, Mr. Cavanaugh! This is Jill Duncan, the principal of Rosewood Elementary School. How are you doing today?_"

"I'm fine," Toby answers warily. "How are you?"

"_I'm doing well, thank you. I'm calling you because I have your daughter in my office with me and I was unable to reach your wife_."

"Yeah, she's not allowed to answer the phone when she's with a patient," Toby informs her. "What's going on?"

"_Your daughter was involved in a physical altercation with another student earlier this afternoon and I was wondering if you would be able to come down to the school to discuss this incident further._"

"A physical altercation? Like a fight?" Toby questions in panic. "Oh my god, is she alright?"

"_Mr. Cavanaugh… your daughter was the aggressor._"

Whatever it is he's expecting to hear, it isn't that. He's rendered speechless for a moment before managing to utter, "Yeah, I'll be right down."

He clears his departure with his boss and splits, using the drive to try and come to terms with what's happening. Not only had Grace been in a fight her third week of kindergarten, _she_ had been the provoker. It just doesn't seem like her and he's absolutely shocked. He arrives at the school and signs in as a guest, following the long hallway to the principal's office. When he does, he finds Grace seated on the bench beside the principal's door, pigtails a little messier than he'd last seen them, her arms crossed over her chest. When she notices her father's arrived, her face brightens a bit, but then wanes back to neutral, as though she's remembered her past transgression.

"Hi daddy," She greets him quietly and Toby's still mildly at a loss for words.

"Grace," He shakes his head. "What did you do?"

She sighs and tells him, "I punched Brady McCall."

"You punched someone?" Toby's eyes widen. "Why?"

"Daddy, he was being mean to Brynn!" Grace defends. "He almost made her cry!"

"Grace, that's still not the way to handle a situation. You need to tell an adult."

"We were at recess," Grace explains. "Brynn and I were playing with the hula hoops and Brady and his friends came over and they started making fun of us. They said Brynn was weird and gross and they said it was because she has two mommies. They said having two mommies is disgusting. Brynn was really sad and was going to cry. So I punched him."

Well now Toby's torn. Is it still all that bad if what she's done was for a good cause? Toby sighs. "You sit here while I talk to your principal, okay?"

She nods but says, "It made Brynn feel better. I didn't want her to be sad."

Toby shakes his head trying to keep the smile from his face. When he enters the office, the principal greets him and invites him to sit down, introducing him to the other woman in the room, Patricia, whom Toby assumes is Brady's mother. "Alright, now I got a chance to talk to both Grace and Brady before I called you both in here so I could get both sides of the story."

"I don't think we need both sides of the story," Patricia huffs. "My son's in the nurse's office with a bloody nose and Grace isn't."

Before Toby can reply, Jill addresses this. "Yes, but from what I understand, Brady made a slew of homophobic comments to another student and Grace did not take this lightly. Your son was bullying another student and Grace stuck up for her. Granted, she did not do it in the correct way."

She turns her attention to Toby and says, "Grace will spend the rest of the week inside with her teacher during recess instead of getting to play with her friends. I will let her teacher decide the nature of the punishment, but I'm sure she can find some spelling or math to occupy her with. In the mean time, I need you to remind Grace that violence is never the answer. This is a safe environment and I need you to follow through with that at home."

"Absolutely," Toby agrees, nodding. "I'm so sorry about all the trouble. I don't even know where she would've gotten the idea. We are not a violent household I assure you."

Patricia scoffs. "Oh, so she just picked it up out of the blue, huh? That's ridiculous. Kids aren't inherently aggressive; they _must_ learn it from somewhere."

"That's an excellent point you're making," Jill interrupts. "Which is why Brady will _also_ be spending the rest of the week inside for recess, further punishment to be determined. Homophobia is absolutely unacceptable at this institution of learning and that attitude is not simply inherent. I assume Brady learned it from his parents and therefore, I suggest you change your attitude or find another school for him to attend, because I will not allow that kind of behavior inside these walls."

A phone rings distantly and she nods curtly. "You're both dismissed. Have a pleasant day."

Patricia shoots Toby a nasty look. "As if she can _possibly_ think I'm going to change what I know to be true just for her."

"Don't do it for her," Toby replies. "Do it for Brady, because you might have grown up in a time where that kind of bigoted attitude was acceptable, but he isn't. Help him realize that before he realizes it the hard way, or today won't be the last time he gets punched."

Without another word, Patricia stomps out of the office and Toby shakes his head in disbelief. Grace is still waiting when he exits and asks, "Am I in trouble?"

"Bad news, kid," He informs her. "You've got indoor recess for the rest of the week."

"Oh," Grace frowns and then shrugs. "Oh well."

"Look, you know that hitting people is never the answer and I _never_ want to get a call from your principal saying you hurt someone ever again. Understand?" Toby scolds and Grace nods quickly. "But, I'm really glad you stuck up for Brynn."

Grace chances a small smile. "Really?"

"Of course. What you did wasn't right," He says. "But _why_ you did it was. Brady was wrong to have said and thought those things and I'm glad you realized that. You're a really good friend, Grace. But next time, tell a teacher."

Grace giggles and gives him a hug. "Okay."

"Okay?" Toby grins, kissing her cheek. "Now let's get you back to class. I have to get back to work."

"Daddy?" She calls over her shoulder. "I think I hit him really hard 'cause there was a lot of blood."

Toby rolls his eyes. "You should apologize when he gets back to class."

"I will," She says. "But he needs to say sorry to Brynn, too!"

Toby walks her to her classroom and makes sure she's settled before heading back to his truck. His phone's buzzing in the console and he realizes he has five missed calls from Spencer. Oops. When he calls back, she's pretty panicky. "_Toby, you can't do that, okay? You can't ignore me when I have three missed calls from the school! You just can't do that to me! Is she okay?_"

"Spencer, take a breath," He replies. "I left my phone in the car and I'm sorry. I just got out of the school. They called me in because Grace had gotten into a fight at recess."

"_What? Oh my god. Is she alright?_"

"She's fine; you should see the other guy," Toby jokes. "I haven't even gotten to the good part yet. Grace was the attacker."

There's silence on the other end for a moment. "_Are you kidding me? How… What… Why?_"

"Apparently, Brady McCall-"

"_Ugh, Grace doesn't like him_."

"Yeah, she let him know," Toby smirks. "He made a homophobic comment to Brynn and Grace retaliated. She gave him a bloody nose; it's kind of impressive."

"_Unbelievable. Our daughter uses physical violence against a classmate and you think it's impressive_."

"The violence is not what's impressive," He counters. "She stuck up for Brynn because unlike the Bradys of the world, she doesn't give a shit if Brynn has two moms. She doesn't think it's 'disgusting' like he does."

"_What a little shit. No wonder Grace doesn't like him. Did you meet his parents?_"

"The mother," Toby affirms. "And man, is she a piece of work. I'm not surprised her kid's awful; she's a twat."

"_You've got to call Emily_."

"I was planning on it." He tells her. "Are you picking Grace up later or…?"

"_Yeah, I should only be another hour or so. I don't know what I'm going to say. How do I tell her what she did was wrong because honestly, I probably would've done the same_."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," Toby laughs. "But it doesn't surprise me to hear you say that."

Moments later when their conversation ends, Toby calls Emily and gives her the 411 on the latest drama at Rosewood Elementary. "I was just wondering if you'd heard about the incident with the girls at school today."

"_I haven't. Why? What happened?_"

"Well, there's this kid in our daughters' class, Brady McCall?"

"_Brynn is not his biggest fan_."

Toby grins. "That's a popular feeling today. Anyway, he made some really nasty comments to Brynn about her two moms at recess this afternoon."

"_Oh my god, what did he say?_"

"That it's disgusting and because you're both so disgusting, Brynn is consequently 'weird and gross'," Toby quotes. "Just when you think you've made progress in the world, you know?"

"_My poor baby. Oh my god. My heart is breaking._"

"Well, maybe I've got the remedy for that," Toby continues. "Grace was not in the least bit pleased with Brady's treatment of one of her best friends and so she retaliated. By punching him in the face."

"_No!_"

"Yes. Gave him quite the bloody nose," He chuckles. "I just got out of a meeting with the principal. I'm still in shock."

"_I can't believe it! What a great kid. I mean, she probably shouldn't have hit him, but I can't help but be oddly… proud of her?_"

"I know the feeling," Toby agrees. "She wasn't in the least bit remorseful because she knew what he did was wrong. I mean is it bad that I don't want her to feel sorry for hitting him? _I_ want to hit the kid."

"_Brynn is so lucky to have her as a friend. Give her extra hugs and kisses for me._"

"You bet I will," Toby nods. "Are you okay, though? I mean, that can't be easy to hear."

"_No, it never is and you would think that I'd be used to it or over it by now, but it just doesn't get easier. For every ten or twenty or thousand people who support us, there is always an equal amount of people who don't. It just gets really hard sometimes and I never want to see Brynn or Ben suffer because of it. I mean, they don't care who their parents are. But people do and… they don't understand why._"

"Of course they don't," Toby sympathizes. "Because they, like the rest of the sane world, see love when they look at their parents. They don't see gender. It doesn't matter to them and it shouldn't matter to anyone else."

"_It's just going to be a never-ending battle. But I'm prepared for that. I'm okay with that. Because this my life and people are going to have to deal with it_."

"That they will," Toby smiles. "We're all here for you, Em, every step of the way."

"_Thank you. And next time I struggle with a bigoted idiot, I know who to call_."

Toby chuckles and agrees, "Of course. Grace will take down these idiots, one bloody nose at a time."


	27. i'm all the way back where i belong

**Alright, the penultimate chapter! Because there was hardly any drama in this little story, I had to go out with a bang. ;) Sorry, but these are two very passionate people who will go to the ends of the Earth for one another's happiness and thus, they're probably going to fight every so often. Will it be as often as it is now, on the show? Probably not, because I like to think that the lying doesn't really come into play anymore. But that doesn't mean it's not going to happen, so don't hate me for the argument, okay? Okay.**

**The chapter title comes from "Feels Like Home" by Chantal Kreviazuk, which I've already used, but I needed to use again because it's a spectacular song that reminds me of Spoby and I legit cannot deal. Hopefully you don't hate this chapter too much. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy writing drama more than fluff- if you read any of my short stories that I wrote for workshops, that would become abundantly clear. My mom's always like, "Why don't you ever write happy stuff?" Because happy's not realistic, mom. :P Okay bye, have a nice day.  
**

* * *

it feels like i'm all the way back where i belong

October passes in a cool and breezy mix of leaves falling from trees and pumpkins glowing throughout each night. For her school's Halloween parade, Grace dresses up like Rosie the Riveter in a costume fabricated by her mother and she looks absolutely amazing. Spencer's entirely proud of herself; once again she's able to create a perfectly spectacular costume without a pattern. Toby, once again, is not surprised. November brings even cooler weather and the start of the holiday season as everyone gears up for Thanksgiving. Grace's kindergarten class does a presentation about the pilgrims and the Native Americans and she is told her to hold her tongue when she offers to tell her classmates the _real_ story of the first Thanksgiving. Her parents are both proud and embarrassed.

This evening, however, Toby and Spencer are not in the best of places. They'd just gotten back from a tense dinner with his parents, something neither of them had wanted to attend anyway. But both his parents had been over the top and apologetic and Spencer and Toby had been cautious to say the very least. Finally, they dropped the bomb- Jenna's moving to L.A. and therefore they're selling the house and following her like the obnoxiously loyal puppies they are. The drive home had been in absolute silence, but now, it's anything but. It had started out just as a simple question, as it always does, and when she'd been evasive, it had only escalated from there.

"What, Spencer?" Toby says tightly. "Say what you want to say. I know you're dying to make a comment."

"I'm not," She disagrees. "I just think it's fatuous that they threw an absolute fit when we wanted to move to France, but the second Jenna wants to relocate to the other side of the country, they're already packing their bags."

"Like we wanted them to follow us."

"That's not what I'm saying," She retorts. "But the support would have been nice."

"They don't support us!" Toby shouts. "They never have. I don't know why you think that's going to change."

"Oh I don't know," She says sarcastically. "Maybe because you're their son and they _should_? I don't give a shit if they agree with you, but they should be able to realize that you are an adult and you can make your own decisions just like Jenna can."

"Do _not_ compare me to her."

"I'm not comparing you to anyone!" Spencer insists. "I'm just saying they still treat you like they own you! And they act like Jenna can't handle herself on her own when she's been doing it for years. They let Jenna run the household!"

"Okay, but it's always been like that!" Toby argues. "They still pity her and still give her everything and I'm almost positive they still hate you for doing it to her."

"Well that is bullshit," Spencer frowns. "If she can find a way to forgive me, then so can they."

"I wouldn't hold my breath, if I were you," He states, still seething. "Honestly, I don't know why you're so shocked. There's always a superior sibling in the household; there's always going to be favoritism and you experienced it firsthand."

"I'm not shocked, I'm furious and there's a difference," She points out. "And how dare you! Melissa didn't run the household. She was just as terrified of my parents and of failing as I was."

"Yeah, except she never got the chance to fail, because she got to set the bar," Toby tells her. "We don't have to have this argument right now."

"We _do_ have to have this argument right now because apparently, we aren't on the same page," Spencer crosses her arms. "I'm sorry that I want your parents to love and care for you as much as they do Jenna!"

"And _I'm_ sorry my shitty family can't be as perfect as the Hastings'!" Toby shoots back. "We're not going to go to Sunday brunch with them or add them as new members of the country club or, I don't know, allow a pedophile to marry our daughter!"

"Oh my god, get off of the Wren train!" Spencer groans. "He's done some shitty things; we all have. Can't you just let it go?"

"No, I _can't_ let it go, because you all might think he's changed, but he's still the same piece of shit he's always been," Toby maintains. "He's always looking out for number one; he doesn't care who he hurts in the process. I don't know why Melissa would take him back, I don't know why your parents would _let_ her-"

"They didn't _let_ her do anything other than make her own decisions, like an adult," Spencer debates. "Something that your parents could really use a lesson on."

"You think I don't _know_ that they're shitty at their job? I know that, Spencer, I've known that for years."

"Then why are you screaming at me?" She shouts back. "You _should_ be screaming at them!"

"I don't want to scream at anyone!" Toby yells. "It never makes much of a difference, does it? Everyone always does what they want and no one _ever_ cares how it affects other people in the long run!"

"How can you _say_ that? That's ridiculous!"

"Maybe if you looked at it objectively, you would understand," Toby growls. "Sometimes you can do everything right and life still fucks you over."

"I do understand," Spencer says, not backing down. "I _do_. What you went through with them is awful, but you can't let that be a justification for what they're doing to you now!"

"No, you know what, Spencer? I'm done," He shakes his head, heading for the front door and reaching for his jacket. "Sometimes things just _suck_ and you can't fix them."

"Toby, stop. Don't leave."

"No, I can't be here right now. I can't keep having this argument," He says, halfway through the door. "They're _shitty_. Life is shitty and it always has been and I don't know why you or anyone else thinks it's ever going to change."

The door slams behind him and the angry tears in Spencer's eyes spill forward and cascade down her cheeks. She wipes them away just as indignantly and takes a deep, calming breath. They hadn't fought like that in a while and frankly, part of her hoped they were done with all of that drama. When she turns around, she finds Grace sitting at the top of the stairs, looking just as fearful as her parents had been angry, and Spencer's heart breaks even further at the sight. Most of the reason they hadn't fought so intensely in so long is because they refuse to fight in front of their daughter. She had been fast asleep just hours before, but now… She looks at her mother with that sheer trepidation in her eyes for just a moment more before descending the stairs and wrapping her tiny arms around her in a hug. Spencer lifts her daughter into her arms and hugs back just as tightly; she really needs this.

About an hour later, Toby returns home still pretty angry but not to the point of exploding like he had been before. He feels awful; he and Spencer had been so great about not arguing lately that some naïve part of him actually thought they were done for good. He knows he shouldn't blame her for wanting the best for him; if the situation were reversed, he knows for a fact he'd be preaching the same thing. But it isn't Spencer he's mad at; not directly, anyway. He displaces his anger, as per the usual, and they always end up at this place when he does. Toby peels off his jacket and shoes and heads upstairs. But on the way to the bedroom, he can hear muffled sobs and his heart nearly breaks in half when he realizes it's coming from his daughter's room.

He sits upon the bed beside her and she turns to look at him, eyes bloodshot. "Grace? Are you okay?"

Grace reacts as though someone's lit a match beneath her. She leaps upwards and launches herself into his arms. "Daddy, where did you go?"

"I just needed to clear my head," He offers lamely. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"

"I heard you and mommy fighting," She cries. "I couldn't sleep. I saw you leave."

Toby frowns. Not only had he upset Spencer, but Grace too. He's batting a thousand this evening. "I'm sorry, Gracie."

"You were so mad, I was scared," Grace whines. "I was scared you weren't going to come back."

"Listen to me," He pulls away slightly to connect their identical eyes. "I would _never_ leave you. Ever. I love you and your mom so, so much and there is nothing anyone could do to make me go away."

Grace's lip trembles as she asks, "Are you and mommy gonna break up?"

"What? No!" Toby exclaims. "What would make you ask that?"

"Lily McKay's mommy and daddy fought all the time," Grace provides. "And now they're broken up."

"Well, that's not going to happen," Toby promises. "Ever. Mommies and daddies fight sometimes, Grace. It's normal. But your mom and I are not breaking up, I promise you. We love each other and we love you and that's all that matters."

Grace nods and Toby pulls her back into an embrace, absolutely loathing himself for pushing Grace to the point where she had to ask such a question. He tucks her back into bed and waits until she's fast asleep to depart in search of his wife. It's late, so he's expecting her to be fast asleep, but she isn't; she's sitting on the edge of their bed and when he enters the room, she stands, her voice wavering, fresh tears in her eyes. "You can't keep doing that. Running away from an argument. You can't. Not when we have a child, Toby. You can't do that to her. You can't do that to _me_."

"I know," He says quietly, ashamed. "It was stupid."

"It was," She agrees. "She asked me… She asked what would happen if you never came back. Do you know what felt like? Do you know what kinds of memories that dredged up?"

Toby thinks back to all those years ago, when she'd found his doppelganger in the woods, and sighs. "Yes."

She looks away and tells him, "I can't go through that again. I can't do it… and Grace won't be able to do it. I can't, Toby."

"I know. I know. Come here," Toby gathers her in his arms and holds her tightly to his chest. "You won't ever have to. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. For what I said, for leaving… I'm sorry, Spencer."

"I know," She murmurs. "Me too. I don't want to do this again."

"Neither do I," He agrees.

"Look," Spencer pulls away from him as her eyes meet his. "I was wrong too. I always go too far; I push you to the limit and I'm _sorry_."

"It's okay," He insists, but senses there's more. "But...?"

"But," She sighs. "If we're having an argument, I want to finish it or settle it or whatever. I don't want you to leave. You _can't_. You can't because... I always feel like when you do, you're only doing it to get away from me."

"That's _not_ why," Toby assures her, his arms tightening around her. "I would never want to get away from you and I'm sorry- I'm _so_ sorry- it feels that way. It's a habit; it's always been the way that I deal with things and it's not healthy, I know. When things get rough, I take off."

"Toby-" Spencer shakes her head, but he continues before she can.

"I'm not trying to make excuses," He tells her. "It's wrong. _I'm_ wrong. And I won't do it again."

Spencer eyes him, her voice weary when she asks, "Promise?"

"I promise," Toby agrees and brings her body into his once more.

The two make a silent vow to let that be their last big argument. There are more important things, after all, than other people's thoughts or a bruised ego. They refuse to let that be their undoing.


	28. i will never leave your side

**Well guys, here we are. We have made it to the end and you have miraculously stuck by me until then. I'm not even sure how I held your attention for this long or even how you didn't lose interest in this story, but I'm grateful I did, I'm grateful you didn't and I honestly can't even express my appreciation for how welcoming you've been to me and my crazy ideas. I'm going to try; if there ever was a time for you to review a chapter, it would be this one. I would like to personally thank each one of you with a review reply, so make sure you do so. I can't review-reply guests, though, so if you're going to review as a guest, this is where we part ways haha. THANK YOU so incredibly much. I can't express what your amazing feedback means to me.**

**Special shout-out to TheVelvetDusk- your reviews flooded my inbox this morning and I loved every single one of them. As you said, a review is a review, and I really don't think I'll ever get tired of reading people's input, their comments, their feelings etc. Seriously. I treasure it each time. So thank you incredibly much for your support and your readership and stay tuned! I have another story in the planning stage currently and though I'm not exactly sure when it'll be out, I know it will. Keep an eye out for me; I'll be around. Until then, see ya real soon!  
**

**The chapter title comes from "The Gambler" by Fun. because I haven't used it in a while and I had to end where it all began. I love you all and I hope you don't hate me for the ending. My exit music, please!  
**

* * *

so just take my hand, you know that i will never leave your side

"Wow, you ladies are making a mess in here."

Toby's eyes trace the pile of sprinkles on the counter, the flour nearly everywhere and the sticky substance on the stove. The kitchen is a _disaster_ and there's no way this isn't killing Spencer's OCD. Grace, however, looks entirely content, pouring M&Ms into a bowl of sticky batter. It's Christmas Eve and she has been waiting to bake cookies for Santa Claus for weeks now. There's a sugary aroma filling their house as Spencer pulls a batch from the oven. The Christmas tree in the living room is twinkling and bright and snow is falling gently on the ground outside. Toby's never seen their house so cheery and festive and honestly, it's a glorious sight.

"You have to make messes sometimes, daddy," Grace tells him. "That's how you know you did a good job."

Spencer laughs. "That's a good philosophy."

"I don't think Santa really needs all these cookies," Toby says.

Grace asks, alarmed, "Why not?"

"Well have you seen him lately?" Toby teases. "He can barely stretch his jacket over that stomach of his."

"Daddy," Grace laughs. "He needs a big belly so he can shake it like a bowl full of jelly!"

"Yeah, Toby, everybody knows that," Spencer jokes and he shoots her a look. "You watch what you say. Make fun of our cookies and you don't get any."

"Oh, well that's not fair," He counters. "They smell so good."

"You can't have them!" Grace shrieks. "They're for Santa!"

"Santa's going to eat _all_ of these?"

"No," Grace rolls her eyes and Toby does a double take, wondering if he'd ever seen her do that before. "He's going to bring some home to Mrs. Claus, too. And maybe the reindeer will like them."

"The reindeer will definitely like them," Spencer agrees. "Especially the sugar cookies. Are you ready to cut them out?"

"Yeah!" Grace squeals and the two switch places, Spencer handing her daughter a slew of cookie cutters.

"Go wild, kid!"

She does and takes her job very seriously, only placing the best cuts of batter onto the cookie trays. When all is said and done, they have three-dozen Christmas cookies and they certainly do not need that many, but all of their hard work pays off. It takes a good half hour to scrub the kitchen down and when they've finished, Spencer decides she doesn't want to cook and dirty it up again. So instead, they order Chinese food and listen to Christmas carols and check the Santa Tracker on the Weather Channel, learning he's in London. After a bath, Grace sets out a plate of cookies for jolly old St. Nick and Toby helps her pour a glass of milk for him to wash it down. They tuck her into bed and tell her to try and get some sleep, although her excitement may render this impossible. For a bedtime story, they of course read from "'Twas the Night Before Christmas," as it is deemed fitting.

"He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work," Toby reads softly. "And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk."

"And laying his finger aside of his nose," Spencer continues. "And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!"

"He sprang to his sleigh, to his team, gave a whistle," Toby concludes. "And away they all flew like the down of a thistle."

"But I heard him exclaim," Spencer smiles. "'Ere he drove out of sight…"

"Happy Christmas to all," Grace fills in sleepily. "And to all, a good night."

As her parents go to tuck her blankets more firmly around her, Grace realizes this is a farewell of sorts and will do anything to put off her bedtime. She pleads, "One more story!"

"I think one's good enough for tonight," Toby tells her but she's unsatisfied.

"Then let me read one!" Grace then barters. "I can do _One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish_! Or I can do _If You Give A Mouse A Cookie_! Or-"

"Grace, you can read to us tomorrow," Spencer promises. "Right now it's bedtime."

"But," Grace pouts, her lower lip trembling. "But..."

"No buts," Spencer shakes her head. "And don't give me that pouting puppy face."

Grace crosses her arms dramatically, adding to the effect, and Toby chuckles. Spencer doesn't. She's seen it before; her husband, family and friends will all claim that Grace is a mini-Spencer, especially in looks. But that pout is a signifying factor in measuring Grace's sadness and when she's upset, she looks exactly like her father. Spencer eyes her now, eyes that perfected trembling lip and accompanying whine, and knows that her daughter's putting on an act in an effort to buy her some time. But still, she can't help but see Toby in Grace's exaggerated frown and glossy eyes and if it wasn't completely contrived, it would undo her just as Toby's pain always does.

"Knock it off, babe," Spencer warns. "Santa's still watching, remember? It's not too late for him to turn around and bring your gifts to someone else."

Grace's frown inverts slowly and she says, "I can read to you tomorrow."

Spencer nods. "I would like that."

"Maybe Santa will bring you some new books," Toby suggests. "Hopefully something that isn't Dr. Seuss. I'm getting sick of him."

They both kiss her goodnight, warning, "Santa doesn't come if you're not asleep, Gracie!"

"I know!"

"Get some rest, baby. We'll see what tomorrow brings."

"I will!"

They close her bedroom door behind them and Toby says teasingly, "For the record, I find her pouting puppy face to be pretty cute."

"She looks like you when she's sad," Spencer informs him. "I don't like it."

"You don't like it?" Toby laughs. "That's just great. Come on, Spence. She can't look like you _all_ the time."

"That's not why I don't like it," She frowns. "I hate seeing you upset and now I have to see it twice."

"Well, you don't have to see it at all, at least not now," Toby assures her. "She's ecstatic; now we just need to wait until she passes out."

For all her excitement, Grace falls asleep pretty quickly and thus, her parents are able to get to work rather efficiently. They do everything in their power to create the magic of Christmastime; filling the stockings, stacking the presents beneath the tree and of course, scarfing down the cookies and drinking the glass of milk, leaving the glass and plate of crumbs behind. Toby even leaves a note for Grace in his most majestic handwriting and Spencer puts a reindeer hoof print at the bottom (it's a stamp she'd bought at a craft store _years_ ago and she never thought she'd actually have a use for it). They too turn in for bed and know that Grace will be awakening in the wee hours of the morning in her elated surprise.

They're correct; it's barely six a.m. and the sun is _just_ starting to rise when Grace bounds into their bedroom clutching the note from Santa. "Mom! Dad! Look what Santa left me! He loved the cookies and said I was really good this year! Look, he even got a _reindeer_ to sign it!"

Spencer chuckles. "Good morning to you, too, Grace."

"Yeah," Toby yawns. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," She returns distractedly. "Come on! Let's go downstairs! Come on!"

They follow their eager little girl sleepily and delight in all her excitement. She enjoys the candy and the little trinkets they've placed in her stocking and when Toby brings her breakfast, she only eats half before bouncing and squealing and pleading to open her presents. They allow it; Christmas carols are flowing through the house and each time she opens a new present, she treats it as though it's the greatest thing she's ever been given. Toby and Spencer know exactly how that feels; since the day they'd had little Grace, their lives had been enriched and changed ultimately for the better. She tears through her final gift and when she realizes it's the second half of something she already has, she nearly has a coronary. Running up the stairs, Graces calls back that she must reunite the two and her parents are left in the mess of wrapping paper and bows.

"Well, that was a successful Christmas, I think," Toby chuckles, returning from the kitchen with a trash bag. "Seriously, she's never been that happy."

"I know," Spencer agrees. "She's great. She deserves it."

"True," Toby nods. "What time is dinner at your parents' tonight, again? I'm thinking a nap might be in order for all of us."

Spencer laughs. "A nap always sounds good. Dinner's at seven, so we have plenty of time."

There's a lull as the two stuff more and more wrapping paper into the trash. When they've finished, Spencer says, "I actually have a present for you."

He frowns. "We said we weren't doing gifts this year!"

"I know, but I couldn't help myself," Spencer informs him. "I had to."

"Spencer, you're going to make me look bad," He says. "I didn't get you anything."

"I wasn't expecting you to," She shakes her head. "Trust me, it was kind of last minute and I'm the one that broke the rules, so…"

"Alright," He begrudgingly accepts it. "Okay. Where is it?"

"In the garage," Spencer says, standing and tugging on his hand. "Come on."

They cross the room, pulling open the heavy door and heading into the chilly garage. Before them rests that infamous tan Chevy truck with a big red bow on the hood. Toby asks in confusion, "It's my truck…?"

"Yes," Spencer grins. "Guess who got it to run again?"

His eyes widen and he exclaims, "No you didn't!"

"Yes I did!"

"No you _didn't_!" He shouts. "How?"

"A friend of my dad's is some kind of mechanic miracle worker, I don't know," Spencer shakes her head. "The details really aren't important, but I know how much you love this thing, so-"

"Not as much as I love you," He responds truthfully and kisses her to prove it. "Thank you. Seriously."

"You're welcome," She grins. "But there's more inside."

"I mean, honestly, I never thought I'd drive this thing again," Toby goes on. "It was making all kinds of awful sounds and then the HT leads were worn completely thin… Seriously, you are so great."

"There's more inside, though."

"I don't think people understand that this is more than just a truck for me," Toby ignores her pleading. "It's a symbol, really. It means the world to me because _you_ gave it to me and now you're the one that fixed it! It's the damn circle of life."

"Toby," She says urgently, stopping his rant. "There's more inside."

"Oh my god, I heard you," Toby shoots back, pulling open the driver's side door. "I was getting sentimental; is that a crime? I doubt anything in here could top-"

He falls silent when he notices what's atop the dashboard. It's a pregnancy test, a red ribbon tied across the thin tubing, and it's positive. Toby's mouth drops open and he says, "Oh my god."

"Merry Christmas," Spencer puts in. "Sometime in July, our three becomes four."

"You're pregnant," He says and when she nods in confirmation, his face breaks into a grin. "You're pregnant!"

He slams the door shut and lifts her into his arms, spinning and kissing her over and over. God, he's never been happier; every time he says this, Spencer will do or say something and he has to retract his statement. Every day with her continues to prove him wrong about the limits of his own happiness and each time he thinks he can't possibly love her anymore, he does. They're going to have another baby; Grace will be a_ great_ big sister and Spencer had already proved to be an amazing mother. He's excited; he's _thrilled_. And honestly, this is _far_ better than the truck being fixed. He loves the truck, sure, and he'd be pretty lost without it. But it's nothing compared to the feeling he gets when he's with his family.

"So you're excited, then?" Spencer teases breathlessly and Toby laughs.

"Well, I'm concerned, because at one point that was covered in urine and now it's in my car," Toby nods towards the pregnancy test and Spencer laughs out loud. "But of course I'm excited. I'm _so_ excited!"

"Grace doesn't know yet," Spencer admits. "And I don't want to tell my family just yet, either."

"That's okay," Toby smiles. "It'll be our little secret."

"Okay," Spencer grins back. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," Toby tells her and presses his lips against hers once more.

Words will never be enough to convey just how much they mean to one another, but that's just the thing; they don't _need_ to be. Toby and Spencer have, by now, mastered the art of telling each other they loved one another through their everyday actions. It's in the way she laughs or the way he smiles or the way they kiss. It's in their every gesture; every flick of the eyebrow, every loving gaze, every tug of the hand. It's even in the way they fight, because they've fought for just about everything, but they've never fought harder than when it's for each other. And that's what matters; they won't give up on one another because they never have. When love comes this strong, it's not going to come without its ups and downs. But they've seen it all; they've gone through hell and back together and have come out the other side. And honestly? They're stronger because of it.

The good, the bad, the ugly; they aren't going to go away. But Toby and Spencer will get through it all, hand in hand.


End file.
